Harry Potter and the Cardinal Lost
by PhoenixSong
Summary: Harry's fifth year at Hogwarts and dark things are happening everywhere? Critically acclaimed, not to mention a great GUESSER, everyone's reading this beauty.
1. Summertime Blues

Authors Note: Hi! I love you for clicking on this story, believe me you'll love it. I wrote this when I realized the fanfic "classics" weren't really so good. I want this story to be a fanfiction staple, to put it bluntly, but only you guys can help me. Tell your friends, tell anyone! I just want this to be known as a real fanfic classic. Thanks all!  
  
PS-Yeah, as you can tell from the chapter titles I LOVE THE WHO!  
  
  
  
Harry stirred restlessly. There was a flash of green light...a high voice...the high voice. It was taking Cedric away! He grasped for Cedric's foot, his arm, anything, but all he felt was blood, flesh, and bone. He hit something blindly...Cedric! He was asking for help. Harry tried to pull him away but everytime Harry touched him he would scream, until suddenly he stopped screaming and he lay limp, spread eagled on the ground. And now the high voice was touching Harry's face, laughing as it ran it's cold, sharp fingernail, across Harry's cheek, making him bleed, the blood making the high voice louder, and higher and stronger.  
  
  
Harry woke up in a sweat. He grappled for the light next to his bed and switched it on, put on his glasses, and caught his breath. He'd been having that nightmare for weeks now, ever since he got home from Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.   
  
Summer's usually weren't fun for Harry anyway (because of the Dursleys, his hideous aunt, uncle, and cousin, Dudley) but this summer just might have been the worst. All he could think about was Cedric and Voldemort, who had returned to power, and how different his world would be.  
  
  
He tried to imagine what it would be like if he tried to confide his fears with the Dursleys. Yes, he could see it now, telling Aunt Petunia how he felt he'd caused Cedric's death, telling Dudley he had nightmares, crying to Uncle Vernon about how scared he was about Voldemorts return.   
  
But Harry knew if he tried to say anything about Hogwarts he'd be locked in his room faster than you could say "Quidditch." Even the threat of his godfather, Sirius, wouldn't stop the Dursleys.  
  
  
Harry looked at the clock beside his bed. It was three in the morning. He had been   
fifteen for three hours. Somehow, Harry didn't care. He closed his eyes and rested a bit. Feeling more calm, he took off his glasses, yawned, and fell into a deep, dreamless sleep...  
  
  
At breakfast the next morning, Harry was very subdued. He was wondering if he should send an owl to Sirius, his godfather, but decided against it. It was just a nightmare, and anyway, Sirius had a lot on his hands. After all, not only was he an innocent convict, but he was now fighting the most powerful and evil wizard in a century.   
  
That left his two best friends, Ron and Hermione. Harry had to admit, Hermione might be the cleverest witch in their year, but neither she nor Ron could help him much.  
  
"Damnit!" screamed Dudley. He knocked his seventh helping of bacon to the ground.   
  
"Mum the Incredible Hulk was cancelled! Mum! MUM!" shouted Dudley.   
  
Harry tried to keep from snickering. Dudley'd been watching The Incredible Hulk since he was old enough to work the remote control.   
  
"Yes, sweetums?" Aunt Petunia entered the room, her horse-like face, framed by pink curlers. She was wearing a turquoise bathrobe.  
  
"They cancelled my show!" screamed Dudley going red in the face. "THEY CANCELLED MY SHOW! I'LL NEVER SEE IT AGAIN! FIX IT MUM!" cried Dudley.   
  
Petunia was so wrapped up in Dudley's pitiful woes that she didn't even notice Harry was snorting into his toast.  
  
"And--and--and--," cried Dudley. "They're replacing it with an educational show!"  
  
"No!" cried Petunia.  
  
"Yesssss...," moaned Dudley. Tears were streaming down his face. Harry turned around so Aunt Petunia couldn't see him laughing.  
  
"Vernon!" screeched Petunia, calling up the stairs. "Come down here right now!"  
  
Uncle Vernon descended down the stairs, straightening a hideous, orange tie. "Yes Petunia?" he asked. "Make this quick now, have to be in the office early."   
  
Vernon swelled importantly. Just last week he'd been promoted to vice president of Grunnings, his company. He reached for a piece of toast and began buttering it.  
  
"I want you to write to the BBC3. They cancelled Duddy's show!" snapped Petunia.  
  
"Supermeatloaf?" asked Uncle Vernon.  
  
"No no that one," answered Petunia.  
  
"Oh. Er--Flying Super Power Heroes?"   
  
"No!"  
  
"It's--it's--it's The Incredible Hulk!" moaned Dudley, his ruddy face bright red. He looked more like a pig than ever.  
  
"My god, Dudders, that show was for children, you're old--,"  
  
Uncle Vernon faltered. Dudley was glaring at him. Harry could swear steam was coming out of his ears.  
  
"YOU WILL WRITE TO THE TV STATION RIGHT NOW!" yelled Dudley. "I WANT THE INCREDIBLE HULK! YOU MAKE THEM PUT IT BACK ON!" 


	2. The Grangers

Harry rushed outside the door, to the side walk where the black dog was waiting patiently.  
  
"Sirius," he said under his breath. The dog only wagged his tail and went around the Dursley's house, so he was well concealed behind a bush. Harry blinked, but in that moment the dog had transformed from a shaggy, black dog, to his godfather.   
  
Sirius looked pretty well--he had had a shave, he didn't look half so gaunt as before. In fact the only thing that troubled Harry were the deep, dark circles under Sirius' eyes.  
  
"Sirius," Harry said. "What're you doing here?"  
  
"Dumbledore's orders," replied Sirius.  
  
"But here where the Muggles can see you!" cried Harry, realising he sounded like Hermione.  
  
"I saw the picture the Muggles had of me on their news two years ago. That was when I was in Azkaban."  
  
"How are you? Where's Buckbeak?" Harry said. He still couldn't believe that Sirius had the nerve to turn up on Privet Drive. It must be really important, thought Harry.  
  
"I'm fine, Buckbeaks tethered at Hagrid's hut at Hogwarts."  
  
"At Hogwarts? Won't they kill him?" asked Harry.  
  
"Even if the Ministry had time now to worry about hippogriffs, they wouldn't be able to recognize him," Sirius said.  
  
"But--but," Harry spluttered. He sounded like Dudley when he found his show was cancelled. "But--why are you here?"  
  
"Dumbledore told me to get you."  
  
"But why?"  
  
Sirius looked into Harry's eyes. "Voldemort," he said in barely a whisper. Harry felt his stomach doing flip flops.  
  
"But . . . I thought he couldn't get me while I was at the Dursley's," said Harry, his brow furrowed.  
  
"Dumbledore doesn't know; the spell, the er--incantation, was it, that Voldemort did to you," fury shone in Sirius' eyes, "might've made you suscepitble to harm, even with the Dursleys."  
  
Sirius looked around. "Dumbledore told me to take you somewhere where Voldemort can't find you."  
  
Find him? Harry felt like a hunted animal. "Where should I go? Ron's house?"  
  
"No...Mr. Weasley's a Ministry employee. You'd be too easy to find. Dumbledore said to take you to a Muggle friends house--Hermione Granger, I believe? He's already made plans."  
  
"I'm going to Hermiones?....I've never been there before," Harry said. He still couldn't believe it...Voldemort was coming? It improbable.  
  
"You'll leave today?"  
  
"Today?" asked Harry. "What'll the Dursley's say?"  
  
"Won't get much of a chance to, will they? Come on," Sirius said, a trace of a smile appearing on his face. "Why don't I take you inside."  
  
This would be interesting, Harry thought. The Dursley's lived in a neverending fear of Sirius. How would they feel as he showed up at their home? Harry came back into the house, Sirius behind him.   
  
"Harry, have you got your wand?"  
  
"What? Are you going to curse Dudley?"  
  
"No, don't worry."  
  
"I wasn't worrying! It's right here," Harry pulled his wand out of his over-sized pocket--during the summer he always wore Dudley's enormous hand me down clothes. 


	3. Rexby

The Grangers, not being wizards, took Harry and Hermione to Diagon Alley through the Muggle Underground--they must've looked very strange, Harry thought later, with Harry and Hermione's trunks taking up four seats, Hedwig in a cage screeching loudly, Crookshanks terrorizing fellow passengers ankles, and then Mr. and Mrs. Granger, looking very pink in the face.  
However, when they got into the Leaky Cauldron they didn't look funny at all compared to some of the people; Harry saw a red haired man as large as Hagrid, and another man with white, waxy skin that had suspiciously sharp teeth.  
Hermione and Harry smiled at the innkeeper Tom, an old toothless man--Mr. and Mrs. Granger smiled nervously.  
"Er--three rooms," Mr. Granger said. Tom nodded, and with a smile beckoned to two surly looking wizards, who were washing dishes. The wizards took Harry and Hermione's trunks, while Tom took Mrs. Grangers small overnight suitcase and Hedwig's cage, carrying a whole chain of keys in his other hand. Then one by one, they were shown to their rooms, all of them very comfortable. Harry had only stayed in the Leaky Cauldron once, that was two years ago, it was a very enjoyable experience.   
He met Hermione at the bottom of the stairs, with her parents, who smiled warmly (though somewhat nervously) at Harry, and they proceeded to Gringotts, the great, marble wizarding bank. Harry forgot how much he liked Diagon Alley; last year he had not visited it. There were people in the streets clothed in cloaks, and old witches, and little boys playing on their toy broomsticks.  
The walk to Gringotts was short, but pleasant. Gringotts looked the same, tall, white and proud looking--a sneaky looking goblin beckoned them in through the door, where the Grangers took out a wad of Muggle money to exchange over the counter. They handed it to a pointed faced goblin who counted it and then carefully handed the Grangers back a sack of golden Galleons, silver Sickles, and bronze Knuts.   
Harry, who did not have any Muggle money to exchange, but a small fortune, in one of the vaults, took a cart, with yet another goblin, to his vault. The Grangers did not go with him (Harry expected they were scared to death of the roller coaster like ride). Harry grabbed some coins, without looking, and resurfaced, where Hermione met him. It was very nice having a bag full of money, jangling to be spent, and the first thing he and Hermione did was stop at the Leaky Cauldron for a butterbeer.  
They sipped their butterbeers slowly for a minute before Hermione said. "So, You-Know-Who was after you?"  
Harry looked into his butterbeer--Hermione hadn't mentioned Voldemort at all while he was staying with her. It was a little hard to talk about.  
"Yes. Dumbledore reckons he was coming to finish me off. I mean, he can't, I was with the Dursley's, but I guess the--er--potion, um, thing, could've stopped that."  
"So he hid you at our house?" Hermione had a slight smile on her face.  
"Er--yeah. But that's cause your family's Muggle and all--,"  
"Hermione!" a voice shouted. "Harry! How are you?" It was Ron Weasley, looking as freckled as ever. He looked very cheerful for someone who was to start school in a day.  
"How are you?" he asked, pulling up a chair.  
"Fine," Hermione said with a grin. "You've bought your stuff?"  
"Yeah, George, Fred, me and Ginny are here with mum. So you're a prefect Harry?"  
"No," said Harry, shrugging.  
"Great, me neither. I was afraid they'd have made you one, cause, well it's you, isn't it? Famous Harry Potter."  
Hermione cleared her throat awkwardly. "Oh don't be mad I didn't ask you Hermione," groaned Ron. "We all knew you'd be made one. You're like a miniature Percy or something."  
Hermione was about to retort something back but she shut her mouth, as if deciding not to bother.   
"Hey, you going to finish that?" asked Ron, he nodded towards Hermione's butterbeer. Hermione only waved her hand, so Ron grinned and grabbed the butterbeer.  
"Do you think you'll be all right at Hogwarts Harry?" asked Hermione. "After all, You Know Who might come . . ."  
Ron spluttered his butterbeer out. "What? But--but Dumbledore's there, right? And Dumbledore's after all, more powerful."  
"But . . . oh Harry I'm just worried."  
"Don't be," Harry said and he wasn't lying. "The safest place on earth is where Dumbledore is, after all. And Voldemort hasn't been doing anything for a while, has he?"  
Ron and Hermione exchanged dark looks. "Oh," said Hermione awkwardly. "Oh, Harry, right before your birthday, there was another one."  
"You mean a disappearance though, don't you," Harry said, feeling as if his stomach had been replaced with worms.  
Ron shook his head. "It was a wizard, he worked for the Ministry. My dad met him once, said he was nice and everything."  
"But why?"  
"Why'd You Know Who kill anyone?" said Hermione dryly. "He probably just liked it."  
"It made a real stir," said Ron. "It was the first real publicized killing--you know, the Dark Mark was shot up. It scared Ginny out of her wits."  
"I didn't feel my scar hurt though . . ."  
"Dunno..." Ron said. There was an awkward silence.  
"Erm--," Hermione said after a while. "Maybe we should get our books now, don't you think?"  
Harry nodded. "S'pose." His mind really wasn't on books. Now someone else had died--all because Harry had let Voldemort come back to power.  
  
The night before leaving for Hogwarts was a pleasant one. The Weasleys, Grangers, and Harry all had supper at the Leaky Cauldron and the Weasley's who'd been in Diagon Alley for a week already, began to pack up. Hermione and Harry, sat on the floor of Hermione's room, playing Exploding Snap, which was much more fun the Muggle card games. Harry noticed that Ron peeked through the open door, from the hall, several times. Finally they all had a cup of hot cocoa ("On the house," said Tom with his usual toothless grin) and Harry fell asleep. He was too tired to even think about Voldemort.  
What a nice dream, thought Harry, feeling warm and comfortable. There was orange swarthing around him, a comforting swirl of rich deep russet, that entwined him. Harry felt safe, and happy--and there were two burning brown lights, as warm and comforting as the russet, peering right at him. Harry rolled over in his bed and sighed, burying his face in a pillow.  
What a nice voice. "Harry . . .Harry . . ." it said. But the voice was getting sharper--Harry sat straight up. There was Ginny Weasley, her bright red hair, curling from the humidity, her big brown eyes smiling at him.  
"Harry, mum told me to come in and get you up."  
Harry felt funny--what was Ginny doing in here? He was in his pajamas! "What time is it?" he said, harsher than he expected.  
"It's eight thirty," Ginny replied. She was already dressed, her face scrubbed clean. "Come on, up!" she grabbed his arm and dragged him out of bed. "We'll be late."  
Harry yawned, and put a bathrobe on over his pajamas. "The train doesn't leave until eleven though."  
"Oh we're not going on the train," Ginny said. "The Ministry's taking all of us--at least, you, me, Hermione and my brothers--to Hogwarts."  
Harry was beginning to ask why but he stopped himself. Voldemort.  
"What time's it coming?" Harry said, alarmed.  
"Oh don't be worried, it won't come until a quarter to ten. Well I'm going--you better hurry, breakfast's downstairs--you better come down before Fred and George replace all of the turnovers with Canary Creams."  
Harry grinned, thinking of Fred and George's "Canary Creams" which had terrified Gryffindor students for the entirety of last year. He sighed, and pulled on some jeans and a tee shirt, stuffed his wand in his pocket and went down the hall to the bathroom where he found Ron brushing his teeth.  
"Hey Harry," Ron said. Of course, since his mouth was full of Goobers Super-Clean Extra-Whitening Curse Free Toothpaste it sounded a bit more like "Fay Farry!"  
Harry smiled, and took off his glasses, splashing his face with cool water--it felt good. Ron spit into the sink next to him.   
"Mum tell you? We're taking the Knight Bus to Hogwarts."  
Harry nodded, his own mouth full of toothpaste now. He spit into the sink. "Ginny."  
"Wonder why..." Ron said. "I mean everyone else is riding the Hogwarts Express. You don't think it would have something to do with...hey Hermione this is a boys bathroom, get out!"  
"You didn't seem to mind when you went into Myrtle's bathroom," Hermione said, with a toothbrush and Muggle toothpaste in hand. "Anyway only you two are in here and there's tons of girls in the other bathroom," Hermione looked at Harry and Ron's shocked faces. "All I'm going to do is brush my teeth," she said as if explaining to someone very slow. Ron still looked suspicious, but at least didn't protest. He sat against a towel holder and watched as Hermione flossed her straightened teeth no less than three times.  
"Blimey," he said, as the three left the bathroom. "I guess it must have something to do with having a dentist for a mum."  
  
  
The Knight Bus pulled up at exactly 9:45 as Ginny had promised. Unlike their previous rides to Hogwarts, which involved flying cars, hooded dementors, and some very suspicious Every Flavor Beans, the Knight Bus was rather uneventful. Harry, Hermione and Ron sat on a bed talking while Fred and George tried to make Ginny eat a new invention: Tummy Truffles.  
"You'll be laughing for hours, come on Ginny," said Fred, trying to squeeze a chocolate Tummy Truffle into her mouth.  
Ginny shook her head, her mouth clamped shut  
"You'll be cracking up!" George wheedled.  
"Oh no!" said Ginny. "I don't want to think what that would do to my stomach!" But before she could close her mouth, Fred had stuffed a Tummy Truffle into Ginny's mouth. Ginny chewed on it a little.  
"Not bad," she said slowly. "What's this going to do to--"  
Suddenly Ginny doubled over, falling off the bed that she'd been sitting on, giggling, and laughing, pounding on the ground.   
"Candies that tickle you! Marvelous!" cried George.  
"Brilliant," said Fred as he watched Hermione perform the counter curse on Ginny who was glaring at Fred with great anger. 


	4. Tummy Truffles

Hogwarts was gray and drizzly. The train had not arrived yet, when the conducter, a smiling young wizard opened the door opened the door with a smile. Harry, Ron, Hermione, Ginny, Fred and George, all stumbled out, looking rather green.   
"Never again," muttered Ginny who was green, both from being tickled, and from the jolty buse ride. They reached the dining hall before everyone else, the magical ceiling, a dull grey.  
Everyone took seats at the Gryffindor table, talking quietly. But Fred and George had other ambitions. "We're going to the Slytherin table to put Filibuster Wet-Start Fireworks in all the Slytherin's goblets," said Fred with a grin. "When they fill up the goblets with pumpkin juice..." George trailed off, and both of them snuck away, chortling to each other. Hermione looked slightly worried, but everyone else was grinning.  
"I wonder if they're going to have a Yule Ball this year," said Ginny out of the blue. "I mean, I'm in fourth year now and..." she blushed. "It would be nice to go with someone besides Neville.' Ron rolled his eyes. Neither he no Harry had enjoyed the Yule Ball very much the previous year. However to everyone's great surprise Hermione spoke up.  
"I hope they do," she said. "It was very nice last year."   
"Well yeah," muttered Ron, "that's because she was with Vicky." Harry glanced at Hermione to see if she'd heard that, but she had stood up, and looked attentive, as if straining to hear something.  
"I think," she said, "I think the Hogwarts Express is here."  
"Good," Ron said, pulling Hermione down by the sleeve of her robes. "I want to eat."   
Sure enough, soon hundreds of students began pouring into the Great Hall. Harry watched as Colin and Dennis Creevey took places at the Gryffindor table, only a few seats down from Harry. His eyes followed a group of Hufflepuffs whom Harry had Herbology with. He watched the Slytherins take seats at their table, casting dirty looks around them, unaware of what lay in their goblets. Harry blushed furiously as he watched a certain Ravenclaw girl talking to her friends. Harry frowned--everything seemed so normal, as if Voldemort had never returned. Harry wondered what was going on, what Voldemort was playing at?  
"Harry," Hermione hissed in his ear. "Look, Snape's not at the head table." Harry did a double take. Professor Snape had loathed Harry, and made his first four years at Hogwarts as miserable as possible. All the other teachers were up front--Harry saw Professor McGonagoll, and Hagrid, and of course, Dumbledore swathed in robes of blue--he noticed two new faces, one a very young witch, the other a man in bright green glasses--he was speaking animatedly to Professor Flitwick, the Charms teacher, on his left; the latter was shrinking away.   
Ron peered around Hermione to Harry. "Snape's not here, Snape's not here!" he said ecstatically. "Party in Gryffindor tower!" Harry forced a smile. In any other circumstances Harry might've thrown a party right then and there. However, Harry remembered Snape leaving last year...on business, with, Harry suspected, Voldemort.   
The first years, looking scared and nervous, all filed in. Harry was looking forward to the Sorting--due to unfortunate circumstances he'd only seen it twice before. Unfortunately before he could even sit down, Harry felt a hand upon his shoulder. It was Professor McGonagoll, head of Gryffindor house. "Harry," she said, and Harry's mind raced trying to think of what he'd done.  
"Harry, I'd like a word with you in my office." Did he do anything he shouldn't have on the Knight Bus? No...unless the Tummy Truffles....but that was Fred and George not him! Maybe in Diagon Alley? He was only there one day. Perhaps the it had to do with the Dursleys--yes, Petunia probably reported Sirius to the Muggle police. Not that they could do anything, but still, if Black was found, and the Ministry got hold of him...Harry bit his lip. Yes, Sirius was in a Muggle jail right now, awaiting the Ministry...and a dementor. Why, Harry though, why had he ever let Sirius go and scare Petunia and Dudley? With his own wand too! He was so stupid... They entered McGonagoll's office.  
"Harry," she said sitting down (she didn't look angry? Was this a good sign?). "I understand you've been staying with Miss Granger and her family for most of the vacation."  
"Yes," said Harry apprehensively.   
"Were you informed why?"  
"Yeah. Vol--I mean You Know Who."   
"I'm glad that's straightened out. I hope you know about Didibus Rexby?"   
"Er who?"   
"He's a wizard who was, um, killed by--,"   
"Oh. Yes."   
"Well, then. Yes. Best you enjoy the feast now. Yes--come down, I'll escort you."   
All that trouble just for a recap of the summer? Harry returned to the dining hall, just in time to see Fred and George's filibuster fireworks going off in the Slytherins goblets. Malfoy was frozen in shock. So perhaps missing the Sorting ceremony and the jolting Knight Bus ride weren't the greatest way for the beginning of the year, thought Harry to himself, but this definitely makes up for it.  
  
The next morning when Harry and Ron entered the Great Hall, the ceiling above them was a dusky grey, mirroring Harry's feelings exactly. He wasn't in the best mood; for one thing the elves had cooked porridge, Harry's least favorite food. For another he had to listen to the Weasley twins complaining for nearly the entire time.  
"A detention, can you believe it?"  
"Can't these people take a joke?"  
"And fifty points lost. All because we wanted to have some fun."  
"They're Wet Start No Heat Fireworks, after all. They couldn't hurt anyone."  
Obviously the twins had gotten in trouble for their prank on the Slytherins.  
"You lost fifty points? So now Gryffindor has negative fifty points!" Ginny said with a smile. "Everyone's going to hate you for it!" she said with delight. She had obviously not forgotten the Tummy Truffles.  
But Fred and George were ignoring her. They were looking, instead at someone entering the Hall as if she were a beacon of light.  
"Prefect!" called George as he ran up to a rather abashed looking Hermione. "Great Prefect can you save us?" he asked.  
"Excuse me?" Hermione said, casting a bemused look at Ron. From behind her Fred gave her a big hug.  
"Wasn't that a nice hug Hermione?" asked Fred.  
"Er--,"  
"We ought to get points for it shouldn't we?" George said coyly.   
Hermione rolled her eyes. "I don't think I'm allowed to do that," she said seriously, taking a seat next to Ron.  
Fred shrugged. "We tried didn't we?" He beckoned to George and they left the Great Hall, obviously looking for another prefect to hug.  
Hermione poured brown sugar on her porridge talking rapidly. "Isn't it great? I can give and take points away, and I have a badge and everything. And I get to use the good bathrooms."  
Harry rolled his eyes. "I'm not a prefect and I've gotten to use the prefect bathrooms."  
"Well that's just because you always break the rules," snapped Hermione. "Anyway, can you pass the milk jug Ron?"  
Ron grinned, passing her the jug, "Can you give me ten points for that?"   
  
The fact that the first class of the day was Diviniation, did not improve Harry's mood in the slightest. Personally, he didn't enjoying starting off the year by being told of his long and painful death.  
Sure enough, as Harry entered the smoky, heavily perfumed Divination classroom, he felt a bony, bejeweled hand on his shoulder.  
"My dear," Harry looked up. There was Professor Trelawney looking as mystical and absurd as ever. "I do hope that the dark events do not cloud your Inner Eye. In times like these it is best to have a clear perception of the future lest some tragic accident fall upon you."  
Harry nodded at Professor Trelawney, and then took a seat next to Ron, rolling his eyes. "You hear that Ron, my Inner Eye's clouded. Good to know, that is." he muttered.  
Ron snorted. "Be careful, Harry. You may not live to see you're next Divination class."  
"I swear," Harry said, picking at the armchair he was sitting in, "if that old bat tries to tell me about how I'm going to die one more time I'm dropping this class just like Hermione."  
But Harry and Ron were interrupted by a loud squeal. "Ooh, ooh Professor Trelawney!" Harry turned around to see Lavender Brown and Parvati Patil staring up at Professor Trelawney with blind adoration written across their faces. "Is it true?" breathed Parvati. "The Hufflepuffs are saying that you predicted Cedric Diggory's death when he was in his third year."  
"Did you really see him dying, Professor?" asked Lavender, her eyes wide.  
Professor Trelawney frowned a bit. "Oh--er--yes," she said in a very unmystical tone. "Yes, I saw him dying while crystal gazing many years ago. I warned him many times when he--er--Kenith did you say?--was in my class; if only he had heeded them," Professor Trelawney sent a very meaningful look at Harry who stared right back at her.  
"What a load of rubbish," Ron muttered in Harry's ear. "That Hufflepuff, Hannah Abbott told me that Diggory took Care of Magical Creatures and Muggle Studies." 


	5. Malfoy's Nemesis

Hermione joined Harry and Ron after morning break to go to their first Potions lesson without Snape breathing down their necks. Harry was very happy indeed, but Ron was dubious.  
"I'll bet you anything Snape got to choose who filled in for him," Ron said. "Ten to one it's Lucius Malfoy."  
"Don't be silly," said Hermione. "Lucius Malfoy, a teacher? Honestly!"  
Ron stared at Hermione. "I was joking."  
Hermione turned bright red, but luckily for her Ron wasn't watching. He, along with everyone else in the corridor, had turned his attention to a wizard that none of them had seen before. His robes were long, green and flowing, with minute, actually leaping frogs, hopping from one sleeve to the other. His hat, unlike the standard black pointed wizards hat, was as well green, it had something that looked like blue tinsel shining on it. His glasses, green as well, were twice the size of his head, magnifying his eyes so they looked bigger and rounder than Dobby's. Bright red hair, even louder than the Weasley's stuck out from under the glowing hat, and on the wizards feet were two jingling shoes.  
"Gingle," muttered Hermione.  
"Excuse me?" Harry said, his eyes still on the green wizard. He looked like an overgrown Christmas elf.  
"Professor Gingle--the new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher."  
"Looks like he needs some Defense Against Bad Fashion lessons, if you ask me," Ron muttered as the jingling wizard quickly turned around the corner.  
When they entered the dungeons for their Potions lesson, Harry felt a wonderful thrill go up his spine as he thought of half a term without Snape--half a term without someone to criticize him nor remind him of his "arrogance." Harry looked about eagerly, wondering who the new replacement was but the only new face he saw was that of a girl that couldn't be older than Harry himself. The Slytherins were already in the dungeon, muttering mutinously in a corner. Harry grinned broadly--the Slytherin's of course, must be furious that their favorite teacher was gone.  
The bell rang, but the teacher was not to be found. The Slytherins began grumbling even louder, when a small voice peeped up.  
"Excuse me! Let's take our seats then!" Harry whipped around. There was no Snape, no Lucius Malfoy--it was the young girl, with a nervous smile and an Austrailian accent. She had bright pink braces on her teeth.  
"Hullo," she said, smiling even more nervously, as she looked at the Slytherin's glares. "I'm--I'm Gwyn--I mean, I'm Professor Fidel. I'm, that is, I'll be teaching you until your, um, Professor Snap?"  
"Snape," came a drawl from the corner. Harry didn't bother to turn around; he knew that bored voice all too well--Draco Malfoy. "It's Professor Snape, not Snap."  
"Oh," the girl said, her smile fading a bit. "Yes, of course."  
She took another bold stab, by grinning but only the Gryffindor's smiled back.  
"Well then," the girl took a deep breath and looked about. "I suppose you want to know more about me. My name is Gwyn Fidel and I graduated from Auspull--that's a school in Australia--"  
"A Muggle school?" came Malfoy's voice.  
"No," said the girl, rather taken aback. "No, of course not. I'm a witch."  
Malfoy exchanged glances with Crabbe and Goyle, who looked confused.  
"Well I thought we could start with a review--er where did you leave off then?"  
Hermione stood up. "Please Professor," she said with the same dignity as if addressing Professor McGonagoll. "We've just finished antidotes only last year."  
"Antidotes--yes, yes, that's very good," said the girl, biting her lip. "Professor Snape wrote me, saying to start love potions this year--"  
A general outcry came from the Gryffindors.  
"Love potions?" Seamus Finnigan, a sandy haired Gryffindor fifth year said. "That's girly!"  
"You're sick!" said Dean Thomas, Seamus' best friend.  
Hermione stood up yet again. "Professor, students at Hogwarts don't do love potions. It's against the rules--it's unfairly manipulating people. And what's more, love potions are very difficult--you'd have to be at least in seventh year to understand the concept!"  
"Professor Snape said to start this. You'll have half a term under my supervision to learn a Love Potion and when Professor Snape returns you'll be starting something else. Anyway we won't be testing these potions on people, only flobberworms. I'm sure you'll be able to master them." The girl smiled. "Obviously Professor Snape has great faith in you."  
This caused most of the Gryffindors to snort into their cauldrons.  
Leaving, Harry could hear Malfoy muttering, "She has a brace on her teeth, really. As far as I'm concerned that Austrailian trash is Muggle."  
For once, Harry didn't care about what Malfoy was saying. He and the Gryffindors were too shocked by the fact that they'd be expected to brew a Love Potion by the Christmas holidays. Most of the boys thought it was rubbish--though Lavender and Parvati were giggling a good deal after Potions. However, everyone agreed that love potions were the most difficult things that Snape had ever wanted them to brew, and that was saying something.   
"Can you imagine flobberworms kissing?" muttered Ron as they walked to the Great Hall for lunch. It was all they talked about as they ate, until Ron dug out his schedule and announced that the next class was double Defense Against the Dark Arts.   
"Is the teacher that one all in green?" asked Ginny, who had just sitten down at the table.  
"Course he is," said Ron. "Besides Miss Love Potions, he's the only new teacher, isn't he?"  
"I don't have him till Friday. You'll have to tell me all about him," Ginny said to Ron, her brown eyes wide.  
"I already can tell you about him, Ginny," said Fred. He and George must've just entered the hall--they looked tired and out of breath.  
George pulled up a chair. "Weird," he said, "Incredibly weird."  
"But---but is he a good teacher?" asked Hermione nervously.  
"How should I know?" Fred asked. "I was just looking at his robes--bright green they are!"  
"And his glasses..."  
Ron sighed. "We're going to have an interesting afternoon."  
  
The Gryffindor's lined outside the classroom before the bell even rang, not because the were eager to learn but they wanted to glimpse Professor Gingle. They'd all seen him nearly skipping through the halls in his livid green robes, and Parvati Patil said she heard him singing a Celestina Warbeck song as he climbed a staircase.  
It was five minutes after the bell rang, and still Professor Gingle did not show up. Ron and Harry exchanged confused glances.   
"You reckon he's skivving off?" Ron asked.  
"Well, if he is!" Hermione said. "I mean, that's awful, he's a teacher, he's supposed to--"  
But what Professor Gingle was supposed to be doing they did not know because suddenly a loud bang errupted from the classroom and Professor Gingle, in green robes and all, emerged with a lopsided grin on his face.  
"All right class! Class class class how are you? Very well, very well."  
He looked even stranger up close--Gingle's face was long and angular. He kept moving; he was snapping his fingers, tapping his foot, looking this way and that. Behind his bright, enormous green glasses were two wide eyes that kept blinking. Harry looked at Gingle's hat--the blue things he had mistaken for tinsel appeared to be electric blue pixies. Harry had known of fairies being used for ornaments, but pixies were seldom used for decoration. He wondered if Gingle had made a mistake.  
"I am--" Professor Gingle said with a grin. "Your new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher. Now, now, what did you do last year?"  
To no one's surprise, Hermione raised her hand. "Yes?" barked Gingle with such enthusiasm that Hermione took a step away from him, as she stood up. "We learned the Unforgivable Curses." She looked as though she thought Gingle might devour her at any moment.  
"Ah, yes, yes. Very good, very good. Nice curses they are. Nice nice nice."  
Harry wouldn't exactly called the Cruciatus Curse "nice."   
"This year I think I'll teach you countercurses. Any objections?" He spoke as if the class had a choice of what they would be taught.  
"Countercurses?" said Seamus Finnigan loudly. "What's the use of them, we can just dodge them!"  
Gingle smiled and began walking around Seamus, rather like a shark circling it's prey. "Don't know," said Gingle airily. "Might be useful . . .if some one does this!" He had leapt behind Seamus and shouted out, "Stagorgio!"  
Seamus' head began to shake--Harry at first thought he was being tortured in some sort of way, but then saw that Seamus' neck was swaying side to side--it looked like the jelly legs hex, but instead Seamus' neck was wobbling. Gingle looked quite pleased with himself, as he muttered the counter hex under his breath.  
"That's why," he said shortly. "Now who here would like to tell me the difference between a hex and a curse?"  
Once again, Hermione's hand shot into the air. "A curse is the broad category of enchantments--a hex is the same as a curse but usually on a smaller level--like the Jelly Neck Jinx," she nodded towards Seamus who was looking rather dizzy. "A curse, such as, well, the Cruciatus, would not be considered a hex or a jinx because it's such a difficult and dangerous curse."  
"Good, good, very, very good." Gingle was now twisting his hands. "Fifteen points, fifteen points. This'll be fun, this'll be fun fun fun!"  
Harry hated to remember Lockhart's idea of fun. Fun, he repeated to himself. Fun. 


	6. Some Quidditch Robes

All in all, Harry and Ron were glad to see the weekend come. Hermione, on the other hand, looked severely disappointed. She had found Potions lessons fascinating and sat on the edge of her seat during Transfiguration. To Ron's horror, Hermione had even created magical study flashcards (that squirted a nasty green liquid at you when you got questions wrong) to help her prepare for the O.W.L's. This was something she took very seriously.  
"Besides the N.E.W.T's this is the most important exam of our lives and I don't know about you, but I want good marks!" she snapped Friday evening as she took out her cards.  
"Hermione," Ron said, as if speaking to a child. "Exams aren't until June...it's barely September."  
But Hermione didn't seem to hear him. She was wondering aloud if Hogwarts offered any O.W.L preparation classes.   
"I'm not helping her study," said Ron, turning onto Harry. "I'm not encouraging weird behavior. Up for going to Hagrids?" Harry hadn't seen Hagrid since last term--he was very keen on seeing him. "Yeah," Harry nodded. "Lets go."  
"You coming Hermione?" Ron asked hopefully.   
Hermione furrowed her brow, and laid her cards down. "Yeah, yes I will," she said. "Do you think we'll need the Invisibility Cloak?"  
"Nah," Ron said, without even looking at Harry. "It's hardly dark out, we're allowed to see him."  
And they climbed out of the portrait hole, leaving Harry walking behind them a bit glumly.  
"How's Percy now that Crouch is--well," Hermione said.  
Ron's face suddenly lit up. "He's been shunted into the Office of Mooncalf Welfare!"  
"Mooncalf welfare? But they never have anything to do with the Ministry," Hermione said. "Percy must not be too pleased."  
"Yeah," Ron had a glazed, happy look on his face. "Yeah, Mooncalf Welfare."  
They were walking on, talking. Harry noticed, with a pang of resentment, that Ron and Hermione had strode right past the Entrance Hall and were going through a passageway. Harry frowned as he watched them walking, and talking quietly, feeling quite sure that they wouldn't miss him. Gritting his teeth, Harry turned sharply, almost running into a suit of armor, as he walked outdoors, into the cool autumn air, and began to walk across the grounds to Hagrids hut.  
The giant pumpkins, which Hagrid grew in preparation for Halloween, were new and barely the size of the average pumpkins Muggles would carve. Harry could see candles glowing through the windows of Hagrid's hut, but Harry had to knock three times before Hagrid finally opened the door, looking surprised. Harry noticed there were ink stains on his gigantic fingers.  
"'Arry!" Hagrid said, his face lighting up. "How are yeh, thought you'd never see me!" Hagrid held the door open for Harry, who had to blink a couple times. Tons of papers and envelopes were lying on the table in Hagrid's one room cottage, as well as jars of ink and several quills. A tawny owl was in the corner, hooting quietly.  
"Er--," Harry said, but Hagrid didn't say anything about the odd appearance of his hut.  
"Where's Ron and 'Ermione?" Hagrid asked again. Underneath his wild black hair, Harry saw Hagrid's eyebrows furrow.  
"Er," Harry said once again. "They're taking a walk."  
"Ah," said Hagrid wisely. "Would yeh like some of me stoat sandwiches?"  
Harry shook his head, he'd had too much experience with Hagrid's cooking. "Just some tea then?" Hagrid said once again.  
"Yeah, that'd be good," Harry said, trying to catch a glimpse at what the papers said without appearing to be nosing into Hagrid's business. While Hagrid was busy boiling some water, Harry saw the top of the page, the ink still wet, glistening in the candlelight.  
To the Confederation of...  
"What're yeh doin?" Hagrid whipped around, a pinch of tea leaves in one hand, and enormous tea mug in the other.  
Harry turned bright red. He felt horrible for poking into Hagrids business...but still he couldn't help thinking "the Confederation of what?"  
"Sorry but it's 'Ogwarts business, 'Arry. And dead boring too. I'd tell yeh if I could," Hagrid set down his tea mug and began gathering the papers, Harry feeling rather abashed. He also couldn't help remember last time Hagrid had Hogwarts business, he'd been procurring the extremely valuable Sorcerer's Stone. Harry seriously doubted that this "business" was dead boring.  
"Now," said Hagrid briskly. "Yeh want sugar with yer tea?"  
"Er--a bit," Harry said and watched as Hagrid dumped the equivalent of a jars worth of sugar into Harry's tea.  
"How are things up at the school, 'Arry?" Hagrid asked, sitting down at the enormous table with Harry.  
"All right," Harry answered honestly. "Things are hard because the O.W.L's are coming up but everything's really fine. The new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher is insane, and Snape's gone did you know that?"  
"Yeah, but he's comin back," Hagrid said. "Don't get your 'opes up 'Arry."  
"You know why he's gone?" Harry asked shrewdly.  
Hagrid suddenly began to be immersed in his tea. "That's between Professor Snape and Professor Dumbledore," Hagrid muttered.  
Harry got the feeling that Professor Snape seemed to be doing Hogwarts business too. Could Snape have gone back to Voldemort and began his double agent role again? How could Dumbledore trust him?  
"Now then, tell me about this Gingle," Hagrid said, allowing Harry to vividly describe Professor Gingle, from his enormous glasses, to Seamus and the Jelly Neck Hex.  
When Harry returned to the common room, Hermione and Ron were one of the last ones there, sitting by the fire giggling. Hermione's O.W.L flashcards were forgotten by the fire.  
"So you came back?" Harry said, looking down on them. Hermione suddenly stopped giggling and looked up at Harry. "Oh Harry!" she said. "Oh, we're so sorry, we just went straight past the entrance hall and then decided to come back here for some studying--"  
"Looks like you were studying to me," Harry said gruffly. He felt somewhat disgusted.  
"Are you mad or anything?" Ron asked. His face was very red.  
"No," Harry said a little too quickly. No, he wasn't mad--he just felt awkward and uncomfortable. Hermione and Ron? "I think I'm going up to bed," he said finally, and began to march up the stairs, followed quickly by Ron.  
"We aren't--there isn't anything going on," Ron said quickly. "We just started talking, and then studying a bit."  
"Yep, ok," said Harry, he kept walking.  
Ron stood behind him, motionless on the stairs. Harry felt a pang of guilt, but changed into his pajamas and drew the curtains around his four poster bed, all thoughts of Hagrids mysterious letters driven out of him mind.  
  
"Neville Longbottom!" Professor McGonagoll snapped in the middle of a particularly difficult Transfiguration class, Monday morning. "In order to get more than two O.W.L's you need to know something about human transfiguration. If you cannot even transfigure your hair to another color it looks like you won't be getting very far."  
Neville looked up, his hair, which was supposed to have been transfigured to a pale blonde, was now pink with green stripes. "Honestly," Professor McGonagoll said under her breath, and transfigured Neville's hair back to it's normal state. "I'm sorry Longbottom, but fifth years are most tedious to teach. Preparing students for the O.W.L's is incredibly important."  
Harry was surprised he hadn't been yelled at. His own hair (which he was supposed to transfigure so it was as red as Ron's) was now a funny shade of blonde.   
By the time the class let out, nearly everyone, except for Hermione, of course, had to go up to McGonagoll to have their hair changed back to it's normal shade. McGonagoll sighed heavily, and muttered something about failing the O.W.L's. "For homework write a detailed essay on transfiguring your hair's texture! Make it 4 feet and 6 inches long! Due tomorrow!"  
"Due tomorrow!" Ron groaned. "That'll take all night on top of what Trelawney and that Dingle gave us! Plus we have to research the stupid Love Potions and..."  
"You're depressing me," Harry said as he began to pack his bag. Harry, Ron, and Hermione were acting as if nothing had happened, but everything was a little funny, and Ron wouldn't meet Harry's eye. At least, Ron and Hermione weren't speaking, or giggling but instead were acting incredibly polite and formal toward one another.  
"Potter, a word please," Harry heard McGonagoll say. "Go on," Harry said to Ron and Hermione. "I'll meet you in the hall." Hermione nodded and she and Ron left, waiting outside the classroom. Much to Harry's relief, he could hear no giggling.  
Harry expected McGonagoll to deliver a lecture on his hideous performance on hair Transfiguration. Instead McGonagoll bestowed a rare smile upon Harry and said, "As head of Gryffindor house, it's my duty to choose the Gryffindor Captain of the Quidditch team. After giving this serious thought, I've decided to appoint you Captain of the Gryffindor team--now before you celebrate let me tell you this comes with many obligations. You need to arrange Quidditch trainings, decide what tactics to use, choose new players..."  
But Harry was lost in his thoughts. Quidditch captain! He, Harry was the Captain of the Gryffindor Quidditch team--it was too wonderful to think about. What would everyone say? Maybe...just maybe Cho would pay Harry some attention now.  
"Would you like to be Captain?" Professor McGonagoll asked finally.  
"Of course I would!" said Harry eagerly.  
"Now you'll need to book the field for practice--and please, Potter, train hard. I want to see another Gryffindor victory." She smiled at him once again, and held the door for him. Harry met Ron and Hermione outside. When he told them the news Ron's jaw dropped and Hermione squealed and hugged him.  
"Ooh, Harry, this is wonderful!"  
"But--but, you're only a fifth year! Why didn't they choose one of the seventh years?" Ron asked still gaping.  
"Dunno--you reckon Fred and George'll be mad?" Fred and George played Beaters for Gryffindor.  
"Course not," Ron said. "You think they could decide tactics and stuff? Nah, they just like hitting things."  
Harry grinned. Then he remembered suddenly--Gryffindor needed a new Keeper--and that meant, he, Harry would have to appoint one. 


	7. Who are you?

Harry quickly became one of the most popular people in school, at least among the Gryffindors. It seemed everyone, from naive first years, to even some desperate seventh years, were clamoring to be Gryffindor Keeper. Harry didn't know much about the Keepers job, and had never seen any of these people on a broomstick before. Harry would have asked Ron what to do, but Ron kept dropping hints about how he always played Keeper when helping Fred, George and Charlie, with Quidditch practice.  
"Hold tryouts," Hermione said one night, as she was doing her homework. Harry got an image of himself as a sort of director on the Quidditch field, scribbling down notes. "I'd feel like a big prat," moaned Harry.  
"Of course you wouldn't. Me and Ron will come out on the Quidditch field with you too, in case you felt funny or anything. I'm sure Professor Dumbledore would let you."  
"You reckon?"  
"Of course! We'll find the perfect Keeper for the team. I'll write up a flyer to post, and then let's go see if we can book the field.  
In a weeks time, the flyer Hermione was posted was full of names of Gryffindors who wanted a chance at Keeper. Harry was very relieved that Ron hadn't signed up for a tryout--if he'd had to cut him, Harry'd never be able to look Ron in the face again. However, some of the people who signed up didn't seem like they had ever played Quidditch.  
"The Creevey brothers--both of them," said Harry as he looked over the sheet with Ron in the common room one night. "And Natalie McDonald--isn't she the quiet second year?"  
"Sort of bookish--really tiny, right?"  
"She could pass for Winky she's so short," Harry said.  
But the biggest surprise came near the end. "Neville Longbottom?" Harry and Ron gasped in unison. The only time Harry had seen Neville on a broom stick, Neville had lost control and fallen off of it.  
"He can't fly!" Ron said. "I mean, it's Neville we're talking about..."  
Harry was torn between laughing and anger at Neville. "I can't just cut him from the team when he tries out!"  
"3 to 1 he's going to kill himself out there," Ron said.  
Harry couldn't help grinning. "You're turning into Bagman."  
Harry nervously went out into the stadium, with Hermione and Ron at his side the next week. Ron and Hermione waved goodbye, to sit in the stands, leaving Harry quite alone, with just his broomstick and a couple of tennis balls. The aspiring Keepers were already in the stands with their highly polished broomsticks and hopeful looks on their faces. Harry felt very strange; this was what Madam Hooch and Oliver Wood were supposed to do, not him.   
"Er--" Harry said, "All right then. I'll call you up, one by one, and we'll practice some--er--Quidditch. You've all got broomsticks, right?" Nine heads nodded. Harry noticed that Neville was clutching an old Shooting Star.  
"Right then." The tryouts were exhausting. Half of the people looked as if they'd never seen a broomstick before. The other half was at best, mediocre. The Creevey brothers both got so nervous that they went back into the castle without trying out at all. But the worst part came when it was Neville's turn.   
"Hey Harry," Neville said nervously, the Shooting Star so tight in his hand that Neville's knuckles were white.  
"Hey," Harry said glumly. "Right then." "Good luck."   
Neville climbed on his Shooting Star, and to Harry's surprise was able to shakily make his way to one set of goals. Harry took a tennis ball in his hand, and flew near the scoring area, throwing the ball in. Neville had barely moved.   
"All right, Neville?" Harry asked. Neville was bright pink. "Yes," said Neville in an oddly high voice.   
"Right. OK--," Harry took another ball from his sleeves. "This time try-er-catching the ball." Harry threw a simple shot toward the goals, and Neville determined, lunged at the tennis ball. Taking both pudgy hands of the broomstick, Neville caught it-but he'd lost his grip. Still holding the tennis ball, Harry watched in horror as Neville fell 40 feet off his broom.  
Harry had caught the Golden Snitch when it was inches away from the ground-when it was hovering over the enemies ear. But now, he couldn't move his broom to get Neville. He could only watch as Neville fell, closer and closer to the ground.  
"Faltuous!" a voice cried out. Harry looked down-Hermione was standing in the middle of the Quidditch pitch, a wand raised. Neville was now falling slower to the ground-when he hit it he didn't get up.   
He's passed out!" Hermione called up. "Probably scared to death-Ron, go get Madam Pomfrey." Finally gathering his wits, Harry zoomed down onto the ground.   
"Neville!" he cried, shaking him. Nothing happened.   
"He'll be all right," said Hermione. "What possessed him to try to get on a broom?"  
"Dunno," Harry said. "I mean, he's horrible."  
"Don't say that. What if you heard your friends saying that you were awful at-well-say Potions?" Hermione looked peeved.  
"I'd agree," Harry said fervently.   
A few minutes later Madam Pomfrey came running up onto the field, followed by Ron. "Stupid boy," she muttered. "Dangerous sports, broomsticks-far too many ways for students to hurt themselves." She conjured a stretch and lifted Neville on it. "He'll be all right," she said looking at Harry, Ron and Hermione's stunned faces. "But I don't think he'll be wanting to try Quidditch for a long time."   
"I told you," Ron said, as they walked back to the castle. "I told you Neville would kill himself."  
"He isn't dead," said Hermione. "He's just passed out."   
"Yeah but that's just because you did that spell thing." Suddenly, Harry felt a tugging on his robes. He frowned and looked down, to see a tiny girl with enormous eyes.   
"I'm Natalie McDonald," she said in a small voice. "And I-I didn't get a chance to try out and I'd really like to." "Keepers usually aren't so short or skinny," Harry said gruffly. The girls face fell, and suddenly Harry felt a pang of guilt.  
He sighed, "Go on," he said to Hermione and Ron. "I'll meet you in the common room."  
"Thanks," said Natalie breathlessly. "I've been playing with my brothers for years-they're both in Ravenclaw, and I got a Comet 361 for my birthday." She showed him a glistening new broom with the words "Comet 361" emblazoned on it. "Not as good as a Firebolt," she looked jealously at Harry's top of the line Firebolt. "But still decent. Newest in the Comet line."   
They reached the Quidditch field; the stands were now empty and dusk was falling. Harry rose on his broom with ease, followed swiftly by Natalie, who took a quick lap around the field and stopped at the three goals. She was good; yes, she was very good, even on a Comet.   
"All right," Harry called, holding a tennis ball firmly in his hand. He tossed it, aiming for the left hoop. In a blink of the eye, Natalie had caught it, holding it in her hand with a grin on her face. She tossed it back to Harry.   
"That's good!" said Harry, starting to feel excited, and tossed the ball again. What Natalie lacked for in size, she made up in speed and agility. She knew all kinds of tactics, Harry noticed, as she zoomed quickly around the scoring hoops, and attempted the Starfish and Stick (though she was so tiny, she only covered the center hoop). When Harry finally said that they'd had enough, Natalie sped towards the ground.  
"Did I do all right?" she asked breathlessly, her enormous eyes peeking out from her stringy bangs.   
Harry grinned. "We're going to need to get some Quidditch robes for you."  
  
  
The Gryffindor team loved Natalie. Alicia, Angelina, and Katie, seventh years who played as Chasers, doted on Natalie like she was their little sister. Fred and George teased her, which from them, was excellent praise. Natalie, who had always fallen into the shadows was now quite popular-at least she was recognizable. Nearly everyone had something nice to say to her, that is, except for the Slytherins who hissed at her as she passed in the halls. Harry tried to explain to her that hissing was just the sort of thing Slytherins did, but Natalie was still upset by it.  
"Don't mind them," Harry said to her in the corridor one day, after Graham Pritchard, a Slytherin second year tried to curse her in the halls. "I have to put up with Slytherins all the time; they're just jealous."   
Natalie nodded, but still looked scared out of her wits. Nearly twice a week Harry had to reassure her that the Slytherins were a bunch of nitwits. Between the heavy workload, Quidditch practice, and trying to keep Natalie from having a nervous breakdown, Harry was thoroughly glad when Halloween, and the first trip to Hogsmeade rolled around.   
"Have you written to Sirius lately?" Hermione asked as they entered the Three Broomsticks, the pub in Hogsmeade. "You really ought to tell him about you being captain."  
"Why? You reckon someone's trying to kill me?" Harry said. He was in a very bad mood-Professor Flitwick had been teaching the class Revealing Charms and Harry couldn't get the hang of it at all.  
"No," said Hermione, looking slightly hurt. "I just thought he'd like to know."   
Ron interrupted the silence. "I'll get some butterbeers, all right?" he said.  
Harry smiled and nodded. Hermione and Ron hadn't been giggling, or really doing anything else, since that night in the common room. Harry was greatly relieved by this at least.   
Hermione was talking about Sirius but Harry wasn't listening. Cho had just walked in, leaning on the shoulder of Roger Davies, a Ravenclaw seventh year and captain of the Ravenclaw team. Harry felt as if something sharp had just poked him in the stomach, as he tore his eyes away from Cho, and concentrated on what Hermione was saying.   
"Anyway, I was wondering why he wanted you to come to my house this summer-I mean You Know Who didn't show up on Privet Drive, of course."   
"Hermione," Harry interrupted. "Can we talk about something else?" Hermione suddenly turned red and nodded.  
"All right," she said quietly, as Ron returned, trying to bring three great mugs of butterbeer to the table.   
"I'll help you," said a high voice. Both Harry and Ron whipped around (butterbeer splashed upon Madam Rosmerta's polished floors). It was Ginny.   
Ron looked incredibly annoyed, but Ginny just grinned and took one of the butterbeers, handing it to Harry.   
"How are you, Ginny?" asked Hermione. "Want a butterbeer?"   
"No, that's all right," said Ginny quietly.  
"Sit down at least, if you're going to stay here," said Ron, rolling his eyes. Ginny didn't look hurt-she just rolled her eyes, and pulled a chair up from an empty table, next to Harry.   
"Why aren't you hanging out with your boyfriend Colin?" asked Ron.  
"He isn't my boyfriend!" said Ginny ferociously. "You shut up!"   
"Whoops, I forgot, your boyfriend is Neville." This caused Ginny to look even more furious.   
"I don't like either of them," she said shrilly, casting a glance towards Harry. "And you know it, Ron."   
"Yeah, sorry Gin," Ron said, taking a gulp of his butterbeer.  
"So you're letting Natalie be Keeper?" Ginny said to Harry. "She's really nice, and I bet she's good."  
"Yeah, she is," said Harry. "You should've tried out."  
"No," said Ginny wrinkling her nose. "I'm really awful, and if I did get in I would have had to put up with Fred and George. I already see to much of them!"  
This made Harry laugh. "Ooh!" Ginny suddenly stood up, bumping into Harry. "Lina's calling, I've got to go. See you around all right?" She grinned at Harry and left, meeting up with a friend, and disappearing through the doors of the Three Broomsticks.  
"Harry…" said Ron with a teasing grin on his face.   
"I wouldn't speak if I were you," said Harry feeling his face go red. He looked pointedly at Hermione.   
"Oh really, you're both being such idiots! We better get back to the castle soon, we don't want to miss the feast," Hermione said briskly, but Harry noticed she was slightly pink.   
Harry looked around the Three Broomsticks-Cho was still there, giggling with Roger. For some reason--maybe it was the butterbeer--Harry's stomach didn't hurt as much. 


	8. Halloween

When they entered the castle it was nearly time for the Halloween feast. Thousands of live bats fluttered over their heads, and Hagrid's enormous pumpkins were carved into grinning faces. Second and first years were already seated at their tables, watching as the students who had gone to Hogsmeade filed in. Harry took a seat next to Ron and Hermione, and stared at his empty plate, half starving to death.   
"Hello students, ghosts and teachers," Dumbledore stood up, his voice magically magnified. "I trust you have all had an exciting time at Hogsmeade filling up on frog spawn and cockroach clusters, or perhaps you've spent the afternoon in your common rooms-er-studying for your classes." A titter went through the Great Hall. Most of the teachers frowned. "Anyway I'd just like to wish you all a very happy Halloween and to-,"   
"OW!" Harry had just felt a sharp pain sear through his forehead. Then, as quickly as it had started, it was gone, leaving only a mild throbbing feeling. Harry frowned, scared out of his wits.   
Dumbledore was by his side almost instantly. "Are you all right Harry?"  
"Yeah, I think so..." He was very shaken.   
"Do you need--"  
But there was a large bang from the entrance hall. Dumbledore stood up quickly. "You'll be all right Harry," he muttered, and his wand out, he went into the Entrance Hall.  
When he returned he looked paler than Harry'd ever seen him before, his blue eyes shining with fury.   
"All students are to return to their common rooms!" Dumbledore shouted. "I trust prefects will be able to lead the way safely--AVOID THE ENTRANCE HALL, use the back stairs"  
Hermione didn't even smile at the mention of prefects. She was already gathering first years up.   
"What do you reckon that is?" Ron whispered.  
Harry was still rubbing his forehead. "I think it has something to do with You Know Who."  
Even Ron's freckles went pale.  
"It wouldn't hurt you know," Harry said quickly. "To just peek in the hall. I mean we can't just go back up to the common room and if it is--"  
Ron was wide eyed. "Yeah," he nodded. He and Harry moved away from the throng of Gryffindors, to the Entrance Hall where the teachers were looking just as scared as Harry felt. Professor McGonagoll was white and was waving her wand about. Tiny Professor Flitwick was wringing his hands as he looked up into the air....  
Someone--or something--had conjured the Dark Mark.  
  
  
"-it was just hovering there." Harry concluded after telling Hermione about the Dark Mark. He, Ron, and Hermione were sitting in the Gryffindor common room in a corner.   
Hermione looked shocked. "Are you sure ?" asked Hermione. "I mean, if someone did that, that's really bad." Crookshanks sprang into her lap with a purr, but Hermione didn't even take notic.   
"Dead sure," said Ron grimly. "Bet you anything it was Draco Malfoy. Decided to have some Halloween fun."   
"We thought Draco Malfoy opened the Chamber of Secrets, too," Hermione said doubtfully. "Do you think someone broke in?"   
"Didn't look like anyone was there," Ron said.  
Unlike, Harry, Ron and Hermione, the rest of Gryffindors had no idea why the feast had been cancelled.   
"Someone set off a load of dungbombs!" said Fred Weasley.  
"With you, everything's dungbombs," muttered Ginny.   
"Don't be a prat," said George. "They're not going to cancel a feast because of a few dungbombs, not even ours."   
"I know, I know!" shouted Dennis Creevey, a tiny second year. "The giant squid broke into the castle!"   
"Naw, I bet a Lethifold got in!" said a third year.   
"Honestly!" tutted Hermione. "I don't know about you, but it seems like they were making a big deal out of nothing. I'm going to bed."   
"You didn't see the Dark Mark Hermione. It was huge."   
"I've seen the Dark Mark before, at the Quidditch Cup," Hermione rolled her eyes. "Really I don't think there's anything to be worried about at all. Why don't you get some sleep, both of you?"   
Ron was looking at Hermione like she was crazy--"Hermione!" he hissed, "that means there must be a Death Eater in the castle!"   
Hermione looked uncomfortable.  
"I'm going to write to Sirius. Night," Harry said awkwardly as he watched Ron staring fixedly at Hermione. Maybe Sirius would know something about it. Harry went up to his dormitory so he could write with peace and quiet. He got out a piece of parchment and a quill and chose his words slowly. He didn't want to worry Sirius. Last time he told Sirius his scar hurt, Sirius had gone from a tropical island to Hogsmeade.   
Finally, at eleven thirty, Harry's letter was done. He reread it.   
Dear Sirius, How are you and Buckbeak? I hope you're having a good time, wherever you are. School is harder than ever since we're all preparing for the O.W.L's. You took them, right? Were they really hard? Fred and George, Ron's older brothers, keep going on about how horrible the O.W.L's are. But they lie a lot-have you ever met Fred and George? I think you'd like them.   
A weird thing happened tonight-when we'd gotten back to Hogsmeade to the Halloween feast my scar hurt, and then someone let the Dark Mark off in the Entrance Hall. It was probably just a joke that a Slytherin thought was funny but I thought I'd better write to you anyway.   
By the way, I've been made captain of the Quidditch team. We have a new keeper, she's a second year but she's very good. Her name is Natalie McDonald.   
Got to go, Harry   
There, thought Harry to himself. That ought to be enough for Sirius to know the details, but not so much that he would rush over to Hogwarts and demand to see the Dark Mark. He lay in bed with the curtains drawn around him. From the sounds of it the rest of Gryffindor tower was still anticipating what had made the teacher's so worried. Harry rolled over angrily. They didn't have Voldemort to worry about--they had nothing, just the simplicity of knowing nothing, of feeling nothing, being swarthed in a cloak protecting them from the truth.  
  
  
authors note: more to come! i've completed the novel it'll just take a while to upload it. leave a review here please! if you have any questions email somacrat@hotmail.com. if the chapter titles are screwed up don't worry. i was just being random. and let me ask you guys something? would you ever go around singing "gingle bells...." just a thought :) 


	9. Malfoy's Fall

The events of Halloween night were quickly forgotten the next week, fading away in the much awaited furor of the first Quidditch match of the year, Gryffindor against Slytherin. Harry had scheduled four Quidditch practices a week in preparation, giving the Weasley twins reason to complain that Harry was turning into Oliver Wood. Harry didn't care though. He'd just found out Draco Malfoy had been appointed the Slytherin Captain. Harry wondered to himself what Lucius Malfoy had bought the Slytherin team this time.   
The night before the Quidditch match Harry couldn't sleep. He polished his top of the line Firebolt so many times that Ron complained it was blinding his eyes. The only two times Harry had played Malfoy, Harry had definitely come off better. But this time … what if Harry screwed up and called the wrong moves? It made him sick, thinking of a Slytherin victory, Malfoy's face smirking at him. Harry sank into a sleep full of dreams about laughing Slytherins and broken broomsticks.  
The next morning Natalie came up to Harry. "I don't think I'll be able to do it," she squeaked nervously. "What if I'm bad? What if I let Slytherin score?"   
Her face looked as horrible as Harry felt. "It's okay," Harry said, trying to act as if the Quidditch match was just a card game.   
The Gryffindor team barely ate breakfast that morning, except for Fred and George who seemed to take out stress by acting more exuberant than ever. When it was finally time to get changed and go out onto the field, Harry felt as though Gryffindor had already lost the match.  
"All right," breathed Harry, as the team sat around him. It felt very weird to be the one talking, instead of the one being talked to. "We've just got to play our hardest and everything will be all right. You remember that move Natalie?"   
Natalie nodded grimly. "Double eight loop."   
"That'll be good since you're relying on speed, not size. And Fred, George, don't try to foul us up, OK?"   
Fred put on a façade of innocence, "Us? Fouls? Never!"   
"If you feel the urge to punch Malfoy in the face just try to wait until after the game."  
Harry looked at his fellow team members. He felt his breakfast churning in his stomach. "Right then, let's go."   
And, led by Harry, the Gryffindor team walked out onto the field. The Slytherins were already out there. Harry noticed that their Nimbus 2001's had been replaced by the new model, Nimbus 3000. Hary clenched his own Firebolt in his hands and took a deep breath.  
"Malfoy, Potter, shake hands," Madam Hooch said briskly. Harry looked Malfoy in the eye, and held out a stiff hand. Malfoy shook it reluctantly, with a sneer on his face, and let go as soon as he could.  
"Mount your brooms…on my whistle…three-two-one!"   
Harry kicked off into the air feeling the wind, sweeping through his hair. His confidence now felt restored as he scanned the area looking for the snitch. He could hear Lee Jordan, commentating.  
"Quaffle taken immediately by Alicia Spinnet of Gryffindor-nice reverse pass to Bell of Gryffindor, heading toward the goal…come on Katie…YES! Gryffindor scores!" Katie grinned and did a loop in the air. Harry took his attention away from the scoring areas and began to search for the Snitch. He had to get it before Malfoy… Harry swooped down, near the Gryffindor goal posts.   
"All right Natalie?" he called to a very pale looking Natalie.   
"Oh....yes," she called back. She didn't look all right-she looked as though she might throw up at any moment. Harry could see Malfoy nearer to the ground searching for the Snitch. The new Slytherin brooms were obviously good--much better than Fred and George's, but still no match for a Firebolt. Harry turned his attention back to the commentary.  
"-Gryffindor in possession---Spinnet heading toward the-YOU CHEATING BASTARDS---,"   
Bole and Derrick, the two enormous Slytherin beaters had zoomed at Alicia; Bole knocking her on the head, Derrick in the stomach. With an "oof" Alicia dropped the Quaffle, picked up quickly by Warrington, a Slytherin chaser.   
A whistle blast through the stadium. "You are not to hit any player with anything but the Bludger-and both of you at once! These are disgusting tactics! Penalty shot to Gryffindor!"   
Katie was able to tuck the Quaffle in easily making the score twenty to zero and still no signs of the Snitch. Harry zoomed up, and swerved around the goal posts. He noticed that Natalie looked slightly sick.  
"What's wrong Potter?" Malfoy called out from below him. "Why can't you find the Snitch? Or is your scar hurting again?"   
Harry resisted the temptation to punch Malfoy himself and instead forced his Firebolt up higher, scanning the grounds for the faintest trace of the Snitch.   
"Gryffindor still in possession," Harry heard Lee saying. "Looks like the Slytherin's new brooms aren't making up for their lack of talent!"   
"Jordan!" Harry heard McGonagoll say.  
"Well it's true! Oh fine! Anyway-Bell of Gryffindor makes a neat pass to Spinnet, nice use of Woollongong Shimmy-ooh! Attempt at Porskoff Ploy-Hunter intercepts the Quaffle-new team member, fourth year, I'm surprised he even knows what a Quaffle is--thick as two planks, he is."   
"Jordan, if you can't commentate in an unbias manner-,"   
"I was just adding my opinion! Hunter zooming up the field, oh, no....passes to Montague-YES! I can't believe she did it! McDonald catches the Quaffle-," Two hundred Gryffindor's burst into ear splitting roars. Harry hardly had anytime to feel happy for Natalie. He had just spotted a glimmer of gold sparkling near the bottom of the Gryffindor goal posts.....  
Harry sped down quickly, but Malfoy had spotted Harry and was closing in. The two were hurtling towards the ground-head to head-Harry was getting closer-he felt his hands grasp around the fluttering Snitch. He pulled out of the dive just in time to see Malfoy hitting the ground. If anything could put a seal on the Gryffindor victory it was this. Harry held the Snitch up as he did a lap around the field-he could hear Natalie shouting, "You did it! You did it!" and Fred and George laughing as Dumbledore conjured a stretcher for Malfoy. Finally Harry sank to the ground, feeling as though he'd never worried about the match at all.   
"170 to 0!" Ron shouted as he came charging towards Harry. "You were brilliant!"   
"You got that move from Viktor, didn't you?" Hermione said to Harry. "But I really saw the Snitch. It's not my fault Malfoy was stupid enough to crash."   
Ron laughed, and to Harry's surprise, so did Hermione.   
"I can't believe it," Harry heard Natalie breathing by his side. "I blocked the Quaffle. Did you see me Harry?" she looked up at him from under her long bangs.   
"You were great Natalie. Wood couldn't have even done that." Natalie grinned.   
"Hey, Harry!" Harry heard one of the Weasley twins shout. "Party in Gryffindor tower-we've got two reasons to celebrate-we won and Malfoy's out cold!"  
  
Harry had attended quite a few post-Quidditch parties, but hardly any were as loud nor raucous as this one. Maybe it had something to do with Malfoy being unconscious or maybe it had something to do with the fact that Slytherin didn't score one single point. Either way people kept coming up to all the Gryffindor players and congratulating them, particularly Fred and George who had, for the first time, not committed a single foul.  
Natalie for once, seemed to be the center of attention.  
"Wood never blocked every single Quaffle except for that time against Hufflepuff...and that shouldn't really count!" a sixth year said excitedly to Natalie, as she bit into a Pumpkin Pasty (courtesy of Fred and George who'd snuck off to the kitchens).  
"Well I only had one chance,' said Natalie modestly.  
Harry was very glad about this. Natalie looked as though she needed some attention now and then.   
The Gryffindors must've partied for ages. Dean, who was a good artist, had drawn several posters, mostly with Gryffindor lions, or broomsticks, but a good few with Malfoy twitching on the ground. Finally, when Hermione gasped that it was three in the morning.   
"It's far too late!" she said. "Come on, you need your sleep."   
Harry who'd been feeling a bit sleepy anyway, did not argue. "Night Hermione," he yawned, as he walked up the stairs to his dorm room, followed closely by Ron.   
"Good job Harry," said Ron, half awake. "That'll be up on the top favorite moments of my lives-Malfoy and the Wronski Feint." 


	10. A Gigantic Project

Winter was setting in at Hogwarts. Hagrid could be seen putting scarves and ear muffs on his plants in his gardens, and the dungeons were freezing. One cold, November morning, the first frost set in, and Madam Pomfrey, the Herbology professor began fretting over her Ubblechubs.   
Harry, Ron, and Hermione were seated at the Gryffindor table eating breakfast when the usual owls soared in. Harry spotted Hedwig easily through the mass of brown. Sirius must've written back. Swooping down onto the table, Harry opened the letter Hedwig had given him and read in an undertone.   
Dear Harry,   
If someone's set off the Dark Mark, for fun or not, this is very serious. I need you to be very careful. If someone in the castle is setting off the Dark Mark that must mean that they had connections with Voldemort. My first guess would be Snape but as he's away…I don't know. I'm staying in Hogsmeade now-don't worry, the Ministry doesn't care much about me anymore-they probably think I'm dead-so security is lax. I can't say everything I would like to in this letter in case it is intercepted, but there are definitely things you'll need to know. Christmas Day, I need you to be in Dumbledore's office at 8 o'clock. The password's Fizzing Whizbee's-bring the invisibility cloak  
Sirius  
"He's come back to Hogsmeade!" cried Harry. "Why did I write to him?"  
Hermione looked worried. "I hope he's all right."  
Harry glared into his waffles, and gave a piece of bacon to Hedwig. "This is so stupid! I should've known he'd do this! Look what he did when my scar twinged a bit!"  
"But-but something did happen," Ron said. "Why do you reckon you've got to be in Dumbledore's office?"  
"Dunno," said Harry glumly. "All I know is that I have a complete idiot for a godfather."   
  
Classes were getting harder than ever. It was not uncommon to see Professor McGonagoll snapping in class, or for tiny Professor Flitwick to be looking thoroughly stressed. The only teacher no one got much trouble from, was Hagrid, who seemed preoccupied with something else. This would've come as an enormous relief to the Care of Magical Creatures class, had not they been bored to death reading books about Jarveys who had to be some of the most obnoxious creatures ever. Most teachers were looking incredibly stressed...well that is except for Professor Gingle who had been walking around, acting just as eccentric as ever.  
"Right then, right then!" he said during one class. "We'll be starting Shield Charms today!"  
"Shield Charms?" Seamus Finnigan called loudly. "Flitwick's supposed to teach us that!"  
"Speak a little louder, I didn't hear you the first time," said Gingle peevishly.  
Seamus seemed to have missed the sarcasm in Gingle's voice. "The Shield Charm is a Charm. You don't teach Charms, Flitwick does."  
"Oh really? Well since you're so enthusiastic to tell me what I'm supposed to teach, you can come up to the head of the class and help me demonstrate Shield Charms!" Gingle said, grinning at Seamus from behind his enormous green spectacles.  
"I--I didn't mean--" Seamus spluttered.  
"Right then!" said Gingle, smiling even broader at a miserable looking Seamus. "Up we get get get!" Seamus sighed resignedly and walked to the front of the class. Gingle raised his wand.  
"Hey!" Seamus didn't have time to say anything else. A large bang went off, and then another and another. Gingle was shouting words, and Seamus was enveloped in a cloud of thick smoke. Then the bangs stopped, Gingle lowered his wand, and the smoke died away, revealing Seamus, who appeared to have angry red boils all over his face, green snakes replacing his sandy hair, and was dancing a sort of jig.  
"This," Gingle nodded at Seamus. "Is what happens when you don't know the Shield Charm. Now let's say Seamus somehow learned to master a Shield Charm and I tried to do Avada Kedavra on him," Seamus gave a whimper, as he danced in place. "Can anyone tell me if his charm would work?"  
Hermione's hand shot into the air. She looked very nervous, and was looking at Seamus worriedly. "No, because the Shield Charm only protects you from minor hexes!"  
Seamus gave an indignant grunt his feet still dancing. Obviously he didn't think any of his afflictions were minor.   
"Good!" Professor Gingle looked delighted. "Take five points, points, points. Finnigan, go to the hospital wing."  
And Seamus, still dancing, began to trot out the door.  
"I can't believe he did that!" Hermione said as the class let out. "I mean, he can't curse a student, that's just wrong!"  
"He can!" said Ron. "He's Gingle. And Moody put as all under the Imperius Curse."  
"That was wrong too! And Moody was all....evil, after all. And for your information, Ron, Moody didn't put me under the curse!"  
"And you were hopping mad about it!" Ron said.  
"I don't know about you, but I'm glad I wasn't put under a dangerous curse by a dark wizard," Hermione said airily.  
Ron had nothing to say to that.  
"What've we got next?" asked Harry breaking the silence. He tried to hide his happiness--it was much more normal when Hermione and Ron fought than when they giggled.  
Professor Fidel appeared in class as nervous as ever. Harry had to admit that Potions had definitely taken a turn for the better now that Snape had left. But the Love Potions were still immensely complicated. They'd been trying them out on rats, instead of people, and the only pair of rats that seemed to have any amorous feelings at all, were the ones who were fed Hermione's potion. Harry's rats seemed to just lie around, while Neville's attacked eachother so much, he had to be given a new pair.  
"Remember!" Professor Fidel said, as she watched the fifth years stirring their potions. "The most important part of a love potion is that you need a bit of whoever is administering the potion. So take a bit of hair from one of your rats and add it in."  
Harry reluctantly plucked another hair from one of his rats. Instantly the potion turned a bottle green color.  
"Now," said Professor Fidel, still walking around the class. "You'll have to give the potion to one of the rats and--"  
"Excuse me?"   
Draco Malfoy's voice echoed through the dank dungeon.  
"Er--yes?" Fidel looked very nervous.  
"Oh, I just couldn't hear what you were saying. Very thick accent."  
"Oh."  
"Maybe not all Austrailians are like you," Malfoy had the nerve to go on. "After all, you are a Mudblood aren't you. Maybe you're just weird."  
The Gryffindors gasped, but several Slytherins were chuckling. Professor Fidel went very red and said, "That will be five points from Slytherin."  
Malfoy looked thoroughly pleased with himself, as he watched Professor Fidel return to her own cauldron where she was stirring a sample love potion, her head down. Harry had the unpleasant feeling that she was crying--tears were splashing into her potion in great dollops.  
"Really," Harry heard Malfoy mutter, "Why doesn't she go back to the Muggles where she came from?"  
Harry clenched his teeth, trying not to say anything, as he tried to thicken his potion.   
"Oh, Harry!" Hermione said, looking into his cauldron. "Your potion's supposed to be orange!"  
Harry looked down to see that his own potion was a vivid green.  
"Now," Fidel said at the end of class, as she poured her own potion into a glass and sat it on her desk. "Love Potions remember are banned at Hogwarts and are practiced in the wizarding world with great caution. Very few wizards would stoop to the level of using a serious, life altering Love Potion..."  
But Harry wasn't listening. He noticed Malfoy, Crabbe and Goyle chuckling--they had smuggled several bottles of pumpkin juice in, and were drinking them, laughing to themselves.  
"--so I hope that you've learned a good deal during the time that I was with you," finished Professor Fidel softly. "Er--I'll go in the back and clean up a bit. You can all have some freetime before the bell rings."  
Hermione immediately began cleaning out her cauldron with a Scouring Charm, but Ron and Harry were watching Malfoy out of the corner of their eye. He, Crabbe, and Goyle, were lingering by Professor Fidel's desk, speaking darkly.  
"Thank goodness she's leaving soon. You know, I wrote to father about this--teacher--I mean really she's a Mudblood," Malfoy took a swig of his pumpkin juice.  
Crabbe and Goyle nodded appreciatively. "I can't wait until Professor Snape comes back. Finally we'll learn something proper for a change." He took another drink. "I--I--I..."  
But Malfoy had stopped talking and was looking at Professor Fidel with quite a hazy look on his face. Harry furrowed his brow--but Hermione looked incredibly giddy.  
"Look!" she giggled. She pointed openly to Professor Fidel's desk--suddenly Harry felt as if he might just giggle too. Instead of taking a swig of pumpkin juice, Malfoy had taken a gulp of Professor Fidel's love potion, and was now wandering towards the back of the classroom.  
"Professor Fidel," he said dreamily. "Can I help you?"  
This was apparently too much for Hermione, she burst out into loud giggles that echoed through the dungeon. Crabbe and Goyle were looking bemused.  
"Wonder how long this lasts," Ron muttered. "I can't wait to get a camera!"  
  
It took a week of doe eyed glances, doodled hearts before Malfoy's potion wore off. For once Potions was peaceful. Crabbe and Goyle were too stupid to realize that Malfoy was under a love potion, and Pansy Parkinson, a pug faced Slytherin fifth year, looked so hurt, that she never had anything to say but instead walked by Malfoy, slightly miffed with her nose in the air.   
It was very pleasant, and also quite amusing, to watch Malfoy drooling over the teacher he had once caused so much trouble for. But finally, as the week came to an end, the love potion began to wear off.  
"Shame though," Ron said as he, Harry, and Hermione emerged from the dungeons. "Was really funny to watch that git making eyes at Fidel."  
"And I got to learn a lot without Malfoy butting in," Hermione said in a satisfied voice.  
Malfoy came out of the dungeons, looking slightly confused, and not as smitten by Professor Fidel. Behind him, Pansy Parkinson, and her group of Slytherin girls were muttering darkly.  
"I can't believe it!" Harry heard Pansy shriek as she passed them by. "I always thought that Draco would be mine! Not that ugly Muggle born!"  
Hermione burst out into a fit of giggles and not until they reached the Great Hall for lunch did they subdue.  
"What class we've got next Er-My-Knee?" asked Ron through a mouthful of candied yams.  
Hermione bent down to get her bookbag, and emerged with a slightly crinkled piece of parchment. "Well I've got Double Arithmancy. That means you'll be having Double Divination, doesn't it?"  
Ron groaned, swallowing his yams. "Just great, sitting in a class for an hour and a half with that old bat!"  
"She'll be telling me I'll die in a weeks time," Harry said. But he was not as upset as he acted. It was the last day of school before Christmas holidays. As always, Harry had written down his name to stay, and Ron and Hermione, more out of habit than anything, put their names down to, as well as Fred, George, and Ginny. Harry suspected that the Weasley's might've been staying on Mrs. Weasley's orders, but he was grateful for it. He didn't fancy staying alone in the Gryffindor common room all through the holidays.  
"Oh I've got to go!" Hermione said suddenly. "I can't believe I left my Arithmancy book up in the common room, I really hope I won't be late." She stood up, brushing crumbs off of her robes. "Well, see you Harry, Ron!" and she disappeared into the hall.  
"We better get a head start," Harry said.  
"Hmm?" asked Ron. His eyes were following Hermione.  
"To Divination," Harry said impatiently. "It's miles away."  
"Oh yeah," Ron said, shaking his head. "Right then, let's go."  
  
  
Professor Trelawney was in the classroom, speaking to Lavender and Parvati, who were looking very interested.  
"You see, my dears," Harry heard Professor Trelawney saying. "In order to really embrace your Inner Eye you must uncloud the worries that drift through your mind. That is why I stay up here, in my solitary class and office, so I may get better perception of the Fates that Intervene."  
"What she needs is better perception of reality," muttered Ron. Harry chortled.  
"The Fates that Intervene say that Professor Trelawney is a ugly, old git," Harry whispered.  
"Today, we'll be starting oracle bones!" Professor Trelawney said sharply. Perhaps she'd heard Ron and Harry. "An ancient art of Divination from the East. Oracle bones are very rare, and are difficult to decode. I do not expect many of you to get through this easily. Oracle bones, however, when read correctly can tell of many things. Just yesterday I put one in the fire and when it emerged it warned me of something evil. Something coming closer to Hogwarts--death." Professor Trelawney stared at Harry. "Some of you would do well to heed my warnings instead of tempting fate," she added delicately.  
Harry put his chin on the table and raised his eybrows at Professor Trelawney, looking incredibly bored.   
"So, that makes it, what, the millionth time she's predicted my death?" Harry said, as they left the steamy classroom an hour and a half later.  
"Ssh Harry!" Ron said. "You don't want to tempt the fates!"  
"Yeah, they might send a raging manticore at me."  
"Or a deranged flobberworm."  
They went down to the Great Hall--Hermione didn't seem to be there, so Harry and Ron swooped past the Arithmancy classroom to see if she was late talking to Professor Vector.  
"Where do you reckon she is?' Ron asked Harry.  
"Dunno," Harry said. "Think we should find her?"  
Ron nodded--they checked out all of Hermione's usual haunts--the Transfiguration classroom, the library. Harry even peeked in Moaning Myrtle's, out of orders, girl's bathroom. To his great relief neither Hermione--nor Moaning Myrtle--were in there.  
"We should just go down to dinner," Ron finally said. "She's probably arguing with some teacher about the magical theory or something."  
Harry, who's stomach was rumbling, agreed, and they went back to the Great Hall where they gulped down their dinner, and hurried back to the common room.  
They found Hermione there, curled up on the couch, reading to herself.  
"Hermione, where were you?" Ron said, sitting on the couch next to Hermione.  
"I was in the Owlery. I had to pick up the Daily Prophet, the owl didn't come at breakfast this morning!"  
"Rita Skeeter been keeping her promise?" asked Harry as he sat down next to Ron.  
"Actually she has. Must be scared I'll tell someone."  
"So what's been going on in the w-w-orrrld?" Ron asked, stifling an enormous yawn.  
"Nothing much. There's some "human interest" article on Gringotts goblins, and some thing about a witch in Yorkshire who stood on her head for 3 days straight. Really, what rubbish."  
"Nothing 'bout You-Know-Who?" Ron said, lowering his voice.  
"No. Isn't that odd? You reckon Fudge is trying to hush it up? He didn't let the paper get hold of Cedric's death."  
"That doesn't make sense. You said the murder of that other wizard was all over the papers."  
"I don't know Harry." Hermione massaged her temples. "You're right it doesn't make sense at all."  
"You know probably some mad old reporter got wind of that killing and it slipped past the Ministry. And Harry, your scar hasn't been hurting, has it?"  
"No," Harry said slowly.  
"So that means no one's, well, died."  
"But Harry's scar didn't hurt when that other wizard died!" Hermione protested. "What if it's not working properly or something?"  
"Great," Harry said dully. "I'll bring it to Darvish and Bangs to get fixed up. You reckon then it'll start going off?"  
"Oh Harry, I didn't mean it that way."  
"Hermione, it's the night before Christmas Eve. All I want is a normal holiday. I'm going to bed."  
  
That night in bed, Harry stared up at his canopy. He was trying very hard not to think about his scar--what if it was, well, broken? Voldemort could touch Harry; did that mean that Harry couldn't sense Voldemort anymore? Harry rolled over in his bed, as he heard Ron enter the dormitory. The only other person there was Neville, his snores coming from the other canopy.  
  
The next morning everyone had gone home for the Christmas holidays. When Harry awoke at ten in the morning the only person in the common room was Hermione. "Morning Harry, Ron up yet?"  
"Nope," said Harry. "Just you and me."  
"Well we ought to go downstairs and have some breakfast--it's late; the house elves will probably be cleaning up soon."  
"Whatever happened to S.P.E.W?" Harry asked. S.P.E.W was an organization Hermione had begun the previous year, to help free house elves. Apparently Hermione had gone off it a bit.  
"Oh, that," Hermione said with a wave of her hand. "I don't have enough time, and house elves are treated really well, at least at Hogwarts." Hermione furrowed her brow. "But people like Mr. Crouch and that Malfoy--"  
"Talking bout spew again, Hermione?" said a sleepy voice from behind them. It was Ron, in his too short, paisley pajamas.  
"It's not spew!" Hermione said shrilly. "And I was just saying how I gave it up."  
"Good," said Ron. "Glad to see you've got some sense."  
  
That afternoon they visited Hagrid in his hut. Only their deep loyalty towards Hagrid could have sent Harry, Ron, and Hermione tramping through the two feet deep snow, and when they entered Hagrid's house there was no fire, or Hagrid to greet them. Only a barking Fang, Hagrid's boarhound, and a mess of letters on Hagrid table were there.  
"Where do you reckon Hagrid is?" Harry said looking around.  
"He must be out," Hermione nodded towards the door, where Hagrid's moleskin coat usually hung. "Do you think we ought to wait until he gets back?"  
Ron shrugged. "Might as well." He sat upon Hagrid's enormous bed, but Harry was eyeing the letters on the table. They looked the same as the ones he had seen the last time he had visited Hagrid.  
"What do you reckon those are?" he asked Hermione. "Since when has Hagrid been writing letters?"  
"Maybe it's to Madam Maxime. She's back in France now you know," Hermione said matter-of-factly.  
"That many?"  
"Well..." Hermione's interest was now captured.   
"Should we have a look?" asked Ron, getting off the bed with great difficulty.  
"Just a peek won't hurt--oh no, we can't!" Hermione said, looking very conflicted. "Let's just wait for Hagrid."  
"Come on Hermione, just a little glimpse won't hurt," Harry wheedled.  
"Well--I don't know--"  
But Ron had already picked up the envelope and was reading off the address.  
"The Council of Gumplump, Wulfrill Mountains, Iceland...Iceland, blimey!" Ron was looking very pale.  
"What about Iceland?" Harry asked anxiously.  
Both Hermione and Ron were shaking their heads. "Harry, that's where all the giants ran off to. When they began getting killed off by Aurors, after You Know Who died, they all escaped to Iceland."  
"And Gumplump and Wulfrill sound really familiar," Hermione said. "I'm almost sure I read all about it in The Rise and Fall of the Dark Arts."  
"The Council of Gumplump? You reckon they're trying to get back to You Know Who?" Ron asked anxiously.  
Harry shook his head. "I think...at the end of last term, Hagrid told me he had business to do with Madame Maxime, you remember her, the headmistress from Beauxbatons. And Dumbledore was talking about sending envoys to the giants...extending a hand of friendship."  
"You mean...?" Hermione asked looking excited.  
"I'm almost positive! Hagrid's trying to get the giants to join our side, that's what he's been so busy about. And I'd bet my broomstick that this summer Hagrid was doing some business in Iceland!"  
"Well it makes sense, doesn't it?" Ron asked, sitting down. "But blimey, giants!"  
Hermione sat down next to Ron frowning. "I just hope Hagrid doesn't get in a fight with the giants...they can be really dangerous."  
Ron looked up. "I just hope Hagrid doesn't bring the giants to Hogwarts!" 


	11. Christmas Time Is Here

The Great Hall was in a spectacular array, with twelve enormous Christmas trees, and real live fairies enchanted for decorations fluttering around. The normal tables had been magically pushed against the walls and just one long table spread across the hall.   
Nearly all of the teachers were there already. Harry noticed, puzzledly that Professor Snape, wasn't seated yet. Professor Fidel had left several days ago explaining that Snape would return for Christmas.  
"Merry Christmas, everyone," Dumbledore said smiling from behind his spectacles. Everyone seemed to apply only to Harry, Hermione, the Weasleys and a glowering Slytherin seventh year.  
Suddenly the doors to the hall banged open. Everyone looked up with great surprise, to see Snape, livid with anger, glaring upon them.  
"Someone," he said, with his eyes steady on Harry, "has been in my office, and there was an explosion, Dumbledore. Filch, I want you to take care of it. I'll personally see to it that whoever did this is expelled."  
Argus Filch, the caretaker, rose, dusting off his moldy tailcoat and left the room looking as though his birthday had come early, no doubt, by the prospect of expelling a student. Fred and George exchanged delighted looks.   
"Well," said Dumbledore. He looked lost for words, "Dig in."  
A feast appeared before their eyes; an enormous turkey, chestnuts, cranberry sauce, and every sort of sweet Harry could imagine.   
"FGAE's," Fred whispered to Harry. "We put tons of them in Snape's office as a welcome back present!"   
Harry nodded politely. He could see Ginny sitting next to Hermione further to the end. She was laughing.   
"Really it's our masterpiece, Harry. Great combination of dungbombs, to give maximum stench and Filibuster Fireworks..."   
Her hair too, was really a very pretty shade of red.  
"But of course improved," Fred added. "And with special ingredients so the smell won't wear away for months."  
And her brown eyes...they felt so warm.   
"Unless you by FGAE remover, only 15 sickles, a real bargain, which will get rid of the smell instantly. Of course we'll be regulating sales of FGAE remover. Don't want it falling into the wrong hands, ruining all the fun."  
Harry shook himself. This was Ginny, Ron's little sister. Why did she seem so different? Harry felt a very funny feeling in his stomach, only mildly aware that Fred and George were still talking.   
"Harry?" Harry looked up to see Ginny peering down the table at him. He felt as if he'd swallowed a Filibuster Firework.  
"Er, yeah?" Harry felt his face going red.  
"Can you pass the potatoes?"   
"Oh, yeah, ok." Feeling like a complete prat, Harry handed Ginny the large dish.   
"Thank you."  
"Yeah."  
It was Ginny, Harry told himself. He couldn't like her, he couldn't. She was Ginny.  
  
  
That afternoon they had a snowball fight, though Ginny and Hermione stood at the sides talking to eachother and throwing Harry and Ron superior looks.  
It's just Ginny, Harry reminded himself several times.   
When they came back in the common room they roasted marshmallows. When it got close to eight Harry went up to get his invisibility cloak and Marauder's Map.  
Ron muttered, "Meeting Sirius tonight? Should we come?"   
"Yeah, s'pose so."   
Hermione looked nervous. "I wonder why he wants us to meet in Dumbledore's office though."  
"Dunno, maybe he thinks it's safe," Ron said, his eyebrows raised.  
"Safer than Hogsmeade, I guess," Harry was saying before Hermione jabbed him in the ribs. He looked around to see that Ginny was behind them in her blue nightgown.   
"Going to bed now Ginny?" Harry asked in a high voice.   
"Yes, I was just looking for Fred and George. I think they put some FGAE's in my bedroom." Ginny was frowing.   
Ron smiled and nodded at her. "They're already in bed. Or at least experimenting in their dorm."   
"Don't worry about the FGAE's, Ginny," Hermione said. "Fred told me he used them all up on Snape's office. Why don't you go back to bed?"  
"Yeah," Harry added helpfully, feeling slightly pink.   
"I've got a great idea!" Ron said fervently. "Why don't we all go to bed?"   
Ginny looked at Ron suspiciously. "All right then," she began walking up the stairs, looking over her shoulder at Ron who was nodding her off supportively. When she was finally gone Ron said, "What a pain, come on let's go."   
Harry didn't argue, though he felt a bit guilty. He, Ron and Hermione got under the invisibility cloak. Though it was a tight squeeze they were able to fit under it, as they climbed through the portrait hole and began walking towards the stone gargoyle that guarded Dumbledore's office.   
They passed the Ravenclaw ghost, the Grey Lady, and Filch who was walking with his cat, Mrs. Norris, holding up a burnt bit of plastic that was presumably a FGAE saying, "We've got them now!"   
When they finally got to the stone gargoyle, however, Harry heard footsteps from around the corner. He took out the Marauder's Map and to his surprise he saw a tiny dot coming towards the stone gargoyle. It was marked, Remus Lupin.  
  
  
Lupin looked pale and nervous in the candlelit corridor. Harry remembered the last full moon had been just days ago.  
He watched as Lupin went up to the stone gargoyle, and said, "Fizzing Whizbees!" The gargoyle leapt to life, revealing a moving, winding staircase. Harry, feeling amazed and shocked, followed Lupin up, hidden in the Invisibility Cloak with Ron and Hermione. A million questions were exploding in Harry's head, but he could only exchange looks with an invisible Ron and Hermione.   
They entered Dumbledore's office only...it looked nothing like the office Harry used to know. The whirring silver contraptions were still there, as well as Fawkes, Dumbledore's phoenix. But his desk was cleared out and instead in the middle was an enormous circular table. Already sitting at the table, Harry noticed, was Dumbledore looking far different than he had at dinner. He was pale and serious. Next to him was a bizarre looking wizard who could have rivaled Professor Gingle. And there was Snape, brooding on the other side of the table--the FGAE's apparently still on his mind. Also there was Alastor Moody, whom Harry had never really met who was looking incredibly wary, probably still shocked from his last attack. Moody turned his magical eye to Harry, who for a moment thought he would tell someone. Harry shook his head frantically and pleadingly held a finger to his lip. He thought, but wasn't sure, that Moody did the slightest of winks. And next to him was Mr. Weasley.  
"That's my dad!" Ron hissed into Harry's ear.   
"Ouch!" Hermione had just jabbed him in the ribs."No talking!" she said between pursed lips.   
Harry kept looking around the room. What was this supposed to be? And then, to his right, was...it couldn't be...? The Dursley's had always left Harry with the old neighbor Mrs. Figg when they went places. And this woman certainly looked like Mrs. Figg, Harry could even smell cats from across the room. What was she doing here? Harry had been sure she was a Muggle. She looked the same as ever except she was wearing a rose colored cloak. Harry would have to ask Sirius about that.  
Harry, Ron and Hermione edged into a corner of the room, where it was likely they wouldn't be run into. Fawkes was in his cage next to them, looking small and featherless. He must have just had a burning day. Lupin sat down on the other side of Dumbledore, said something quietly, and nodded toward Mrs. Figg, who smiled back.   
The door opened once again, revealing Harry's godfather. Sirius looked much better than he ever had. His face was shaven and he had much more color. He was even smiling, though his eyes were haunted. Harry yearned to reach out and say hello but something told him now wasn't the time. Everyone was looking very somber. Why did Sirius want him here? Everyone was looking around as though expecting someone else. The room was completely silent.   
The door swung open again, revealing Hagrid in his moleskin coat, looking strangely out of place in Dumbledore's office. Dumbledore conjured a huge chair, that Hagrid accepted.   
"Hello everyone, and merry, merry Christmas. Unfortunately we are all here on grave business. As all of you know Voldemort has risen again."  
Harry saw half of the wizards wince at the name.   
"We must stop him. So I have called together the old group once again. We also have with us Rubeus Hagrid, who has been visiting with the giants, and Mr. Arnold Weasley who's been trying very hard to protect Muggles during these times."  
Mr. Weasley's ears went red, not unlike Ron's when he was embarrassed.  
"The times ahead are hard," Dumbledore continued. "The Daily Prophet has not breathed a word about Voldemort, except for the attack on Didibus Rexby.. And writers who we thought would be outspoken seem to have given up their quills,"  
At this Hermione swelled with pride.  
"Only Rexby was reported."   
"But why, Dumbledore?" Mrs. Figg asked.  
Dumbledore sighed. "It is my opinion, Arabella, that Voldemort is putting all his sources on getting something that will make him even more powerful."  
At this Snape cleared his throat. "Excuse me Dumbledore," Harry forgot how much he hated Snape's oily tone of voice.  
"I was working undercover for the last six months. I told Voldemort that I was returning to Hogwarts only to pass information to him. I understand well that Voldemort safely guards his secrets, even among his supporters but I know that Voldemort is trying to...to take the one we spoke about earlier."   
Dumbledore nodded, "Yes the council spoke about this before, we suspected he might want it, as it is a very powerful weapon."   
Snape continued, "Also the death of Didbus Rexby was carefully planned out, but why I do not know. Voldemort did not trust me completely to tell me everything." Dumbledore nodded once again.   
"So how can we protect it?" the bizarre looking wizard spoke up.   
"It is quite simple Mundungus. I believe that as long as we keep our eyes open, we'll be able to catch Voldemort if he attempts to take it." Dumbledore looked right at Harry. "And I think he'll be able to protect himself."  
Harry felt as if his stomach had frozen. "Now, Arthur, are you increasing Muggle security?"   
"Yes, I've got old Perkins in my department working things out." Suddenly Mrs. Figg gave a shrill girl like giggle. Dumbledore ignored Mrs. Figg.   
"We'll need to meet again, increase security, but as Voldemort isn't acting now it doesn't seem there's not much to do. Now it's Christmas, why don't you all return to your families?"  
There was a general murmur of agreement, and people began to stand up, walking away--several of them apparated, disappearing with a small pop. Sirius however remained seated."Bye Moony," he muttered as Lupin passed him. However Sirius gave Snape a dirty look as he walked by his chair. When the last person was finally out Dumbledore spoke quietly."You can show yourselves."  
  
  
Feeling weak in the knees, Harry removed the invisibility cloak. Hermione was looking petrified, as if a million points would be taken from Gryffindor.  
"It's my fault Dumbledore, I wanted him here," Sirius said.  
"It's all right, Sirius," Dumbledore spoke evenly. "Curiosity never hurt anyone, and it's best that people know the seriousness of Voldemort. However there are some things that shouldn't trouble these children. I think I'm going to go to bed, it's getting really very late, and I suggest that you Ms. Granger and Mr. Weasley do the same. Harry if you'd like to speak to Sirius-"  
"Yeah, I would," Harry said.  
"-then you may. Good night, and merry Christmas." He went through a door and shut it behind him.   
Hermione and Ron, giving Harry reproachful looks, left through the door.  
"You must be very confused Harry," Sirius finally said. "And I can't tell you everything I'd like to."  
"Do all those people know you're innocent?" Harry asked eagerly. "I mean, they acted like it was normal and everything that you were there."  
"They've known for months, since we've been meeting. It's Cornelius Fudge I need to watch out for."  
Harry nodded slowly. "And was that woman Mrs. Figg?"  
Sirius smiled to himself. "It was Dumbledore's idea. When you went to live with the Dursley's he asked Mrs. Figg to live near you. He wanted a witch to keep an eye on you, make sure you were all right."  
"But I thought she was a Muggle. She had tons of cats," Harry said, furrowing his brow.  
"And she was! What happened to Arabella is very odd--was a Muggle until maybe 20 years ago. It was the height of Voldemort's power and Muggle killings were common. Anyway, she was doing her shopping when a few Death Eaters came--probably just killing for sport. She says they pointed their wands at her but--"  
"But what?"  
"She blew them away! Up into the sky they went and back down. Well, the Ministry got a hold of that bit of magic, came down to find a scared Mrs. Figg--I mean really, she'd just blown two full grown men away! It's very, very rare for a person to show magic that late in life, but with Mrs. Figg, well it happened--they were dire circumstances, you know. There were a few people, let me tell you, that wanted to wipe her memory. But Dumbledore saw her for what she was, trained her up a bit and now she's as much a witch as Professor McGonagoll. She was sent to Privet Drive to look after you all these years--prefers the Muggle lifestyle she says. And a bunch of cats, you said. I'll bet you anything they're Kneazles."  
"Yeah Hagrid taught us about them…and Hagrid, the giants?" Harry asked his head still spinning with new information.  
"Yes, Hagrid was sent over to Iceland to make amends with the giants. We think they're on our side now."  
"All right…" Harry bit his lip. "And what they're protecting?"  
But Sirius was saying, "Time to go to bed, merry Christmas, Harry. I'll see you again soon."  
  
Ron and Hermione were both in the dormitory, already in their pajamas. They were very quiet.  
"I tried to tell her this was a boys dorm, but she doesn't care!" Ron moaned.  
"I had to talk to you, Harry. That was a lot we just found out."  
"Yeah. What do you reckon they're protecting?"  
Hermione and Ron looked from each other to Harry. They both looked as though someone had died.  
"Oh Harry, isn't it obvious?" Hermione finally said. "You Know Who's trying to get…you."  
  
The rest of vacation passed by tensely. Harry quickly forgot everything; homework, Snape, even Ginny. Hermione's words echoed in his mind "You Know Who's trying to get…you."  
It seemed improbable and yet it made sense. Voldemort had been trying to kill Harry since he was just a year old. And now that he had risen to power, Voldemort would want to kill Harry just as much.  
Harry was very glad when classes started again, and the common room was noisy. Of course Ron and Hermione wouldn't let Harry out of their sight and whenever Harry wanted to visit Hagrid, Hagrid was just as protective.  
"Don't yeh go wandering round the grounds," he said one Saturday afternoon.  
Harry looked evenly at Hagrid. "Why?  
"Well…well…yeh just shouldn't." Hagrid was red in the face. "Now how bout a biscuit?"  
Soon Harry had other things to worry about besides Voldemort. Snape had returned to Potions, which Harry felt was the more pressing issue. 


	12. Wood Would Be Proud

"Professor Fidel left a positive report. Though that's not saying much," Snape greeted the Slytherins and Gryffindors on his first day back. "I doubt one of you could produce a worthy Love Potion. However, we shall see just how much you learned for your O.W.L's. In the meantime I will be instructing you on Memory Potions."  
  
Harry gritted his teeth as he picked two Jobberknoll feathers.  
  
"Memory Potions," hissed Ron. "They're even harder than Love Potions."  
  
Harry noticed that Snape was already praising Malfoy, though his cauldron hadn't even begun to simmer.  
  
  
The teachers began adding to the workload, which was already very large. Professor Sinistra, the Astronomy teacher, had them studying the Andromeda Galaxy, and Professor Trelawney was making them learn more about oracle bones than they ever wanted to. McGonagoll, already a very difficult teacher, was trying to teach them beginning human transfiguration, but the only person who succeeded in turning her hand into a hook, was Hermione. Even Hagrid was making the class write extensive essays on the care of Crups.  
  
  
Harry had more to do than even Hermione, who was taking an extra class. As captain of the Gryffindor Quidditch team he had to arrange practices. They were up against Ravenclaw, one of the best teams, but still Alicia, Angelina, and Katie hadn't gotten the Parkin's Pincer down. Fred and George spent half their time trying to curse the Ravenclaw's broomsticks in the broom shed. Only Natalie ever wanted to work.  
  
"Would you stop it?" Harry shouted one evening when Fred and George had been tossing Bludgers toward the castle.  
  
"You're sounding like Oliver, Harry!" warned Fred, as he beat a Bludger toward the Astronomy tower.  
  
"Tomorrow we've got to overtake Ravenclaw if we want to get to the Quidditch final."  
  
"It's all right Harry, we're doing really well," Natalie said quietly. "And I've been working really hard on my Double Eight Loop."  
  
Harry had to smile, "It was already perfect."  
  
Natalie blushed and looked into her lap.  
  
  
The next morning Harry went out to the field feeling rather queasy in his stomach. Fred and George were too busy trying to sell FGAE's to notice how green Harry was.  
  
"It's all right," Natalie was next to Harry. "We'll do great."  
  
They walked out on the field, Fred and George still seemed keen on making money. "We're lowering the price to ten sickles!" Fred yelled out to the crowd.  
  
"Potter, Davies shake hands," Madam Hooch said, eyeing Fred and George suspiciously.  
  
Harry shook Roger Davies, the Ravenclaw captain's, hand. It struck him how very tall he was. Cho Chang was behind Roger, she smiled widely at Harry who gave her a tight lipped smile. It was strange how his stomach didn't do flip flops anymore.  
They took off from the ground, and Harry soared high above the rest of the field looking for the snitch, feeling the wind rush through his hair. He could hear Lee Jordan commentating-  
  
"Johnson in possession of the Quaffle-nice pass to Spinnet-speeding towards the goals-score for Gryffindor! YESSS!"  
  
A red mass of people broke into cheers. Alicia did a quick lap around the field grinning broadly.  
  
"Harry!"  
  
Harry looked down. It was Cho, riding on her broomstick.  
  
"What?" Harry squinted his eyes looking for the Snitch.  
  
"I-I just wanted to say that I'm really sorry about last year, and all that stuff." Cho flew up so that she was level with him.  
  
"Oh-oh yeah, all right then."  
  
"And I wanted to know if you'd like to meet me at Hogsmeade next visit-that's next   
week."  
  
"Um." Harry felt himself going red. He would have given anything for this last year, anything. So why did he feel so different now. "I-I can't."  
  
"Oh. Why?"  
  
"Well…" Harry searched for an answer. "I have a lot of stuff to do. I really need to get   
ready for the O.W.L's."  
  
Now Cho was red. "Okay then. Well good luck Harry." And she swooped down near the Gryffindor goal post.  
  
Harry felt very odd. Why did he say no?  
  
"-McDonald blocks the Quaffle-great find of Potters. Small but quick." Harry continued looking for the Snitch.  
  
"-score is 30-0 Gryffindor."  
  
Harry smiled to himself. He felt oddly reassured.   
  
A Bludger rushed past him, grazing his ear, but shaking all romantic thoughts from him. Fred immediately flew up and hit it towards Cho.   
  
"Watch out," Fred said, and then flew off to block the other Quaffle from attacking Angelina.  
  
Then Harry saw it, a glimmer of gold right next to Katie Johnson. He sped downward, knocked into Katie, and caught it in his fist.   
  
Katie screamed, at first out of shock then happiness. She rushed to him and hugged him. Harry couldn't see much; Angelina, Katie, and Alicia were all hugging him now, Natalie was zooming around him saying, "We did it! We did it!" Out of the corner of his eye Harry could see Fred and George making rude gestures at the Ravenclaws.  
  
They fell to the ground, Harry feeling as if Christmas had come early.   
  
"Good job Cho," he said weakly as Cho passed him.  
  
"Yeah," she said. She looked very red and Harry began to feel as if he'd made a mistake.  
  
"We didn't even have to curse their broomsticks," George whispered in Harry's ear.  
  
"But we put about a dozen FGAE's in their locker room," Fred added, grinning wickedly.  
  
"You do realize that we'll be playing against Hufflepuff for the Cup," George said in the common room that night. He and Fred had immediately thrown a party, with help from Lee Jordan.  
  
"We're going to win, aren't we?" Angelina said. "Second time in a row. Ooh I'd love to win in my last year here."  
  
"Last game we played to Hufflepuff we lost," Katie reminded them.  
  
Harry bit his lip, remembering Cedric. "Yeah, " he said quietly.  
  
"But without Cedric they're awful!" George said tactlessly.  
  
Fred took a bit into a pumpkin pasty, "This is brilliant!" he said delightedly. "Wood would be proud." 


	13. Pictures of Lily

The next weekend, having told Cho he wouldn't be going to Hogsmeade, Harry had nothing to do but stay in Gryffindor tower.   
  
"We'll bring you loads back," Ron said as he and Hermione climbed out of the portrait hole.  
  
"Bye Harry!" Hermione called behind her shoulder.  
  
Harry shuddered involuntarily as he thought of Ron and Hermione sipping butterbeers together in the Three Broomsticks.  
  
"Harry?"  
  
Harry turned around to see Ginny.  
  
"I'm not going to Hogsmeade either. I hurt my hand in Care of Magical creatures the other day. Madam Pomfrey healed it but it's still sore."  
  
"Oh, really?" Harry said. Why was he going red? Why?  
  
"Um Harry," Ginny lowered her voice. She looked tentative. "There's something in my dorm I really need to show you."  
  
"Your dorm?" Harry felt as if someone had cut off the air to his lungs. Ginny nodded, looking terrible, and began to walk up the stairs, nodding at Harry to follow her.  
  
He followed Ginny up the winding staircase and to a room that said Fourth Years on the door. It was exactly like the boys dorms, except different colored bottles covered the bureaus and above one girls bed a Muggle picture of Colin Firth was smiling down at them.  
  
"I-I found this the other night. It was under a loose floorboard." Ginny handed Harry several rolls of parchment. Harry blew the dust off.  
  
"Cardinal and Curly Forever!" it said. There was an illustration underneath of two girls, one was lean with long red hair and lots of freckles. The other was plump and had curly hair. The picture was obviously magical as someone had enchanted it so that the two girls were giggling and kept pointing up at Harry and Ginny.  
  
"What-what is this?"  
  
"Look at the other one," Ginny said in a small voice.  
  
Harry put the Cardinal and Curly picture on one of the beds. The next one had a large heart that kept changing colors. Inside it, it said, "Prongs Loves Cardinal!" Then the "Prongs" bit was crossed out by another persons handwriting, and replaced with "Dustin Hoffman" and then that same person crossed Dustin Hoffman again and restored the name Prongs.  
  
"That-that was my Dad's nickname at school, Prongs. Who was Cardinal?"  
  
"Look at the last one, Harry," Ginny said.  
  
This sheet was not enchanted. All it had were some ink and quill scribblings saying "Lily Potter?" "James Evans?" "Lily Loves James."  
  
"Is this…my mums?" Harry asked. He kept looking at the papers.  
  
"I just found it under the floorboard," Ginny looked into Harry's eyes. "I figured this must've been her room when she was at Hogwarts. Her nickname must've been Cardinal, see. And Curly had to have been her friend. And your dad..James."  
  
Harry felt as if something was caught in his throat. He looked at the paper again,   
"Lily Potter."  
  
"I thought you would like it," Ginny's voice was barely audible.  
  
Harry blinked several times. "Thank you," he finally said.  
  
He sat up and for a moment he thought their lips grazed. But then Ginny was looking down, her ears were very red. Harry gathered the papers.  
  
"Well then-er-I better go."  
  
Ginny nodded as Harry began to leave.   
  
"Oh, Harry!"  
  
Harry turned round to see Ginny, who oddly had tears in her eyes.  
  
"I-I just mean. Never mind."  
  
And she just sat on her bed, leaving Harry to his very confused thoughts.  
  
  
When Ron and Hermione returned to Hogsmeade Harry didn't tell them about the papers Ginny had given him. He had put them under his mattress and was thinking very hard.   
  
This was what his mother must've been like at school; she was just a normal girl. She had nicknames-Cardinal must've been because of her hair, which Harry knew was red-she had friends, and crushes… and then Voldemort had killed her, just as he had killed so many others. All this pain and suffering just came from Voldemort. Harry tried hard to think of what his parents would have been like if they hadn't died, and he realized that he couldn't. He had never met his parents, he would never find out what they wanted for him, any of their hopes or dreams. They were just gone, and all that remained of their memory were bits of parchment.  
Harry felt an angry sob in his throat wiped two tears away.   
  
Harry shuddered and went to the window-the February chill felt good on his face. Harry leaned out and took a deep breath. It was just a bit of parchment, Harry told himself, just a little bit of parchment. And then he froze-a cardinal had just swept down and landed on the windowsill.  
  
Monday morning, at breakfast Harry was very quiet. Hermione and Ron were chatting rapidly about Hogsmeade but Harry somehow didn't hear them. Harry noticed that Ginny too, was quite reserved.  
"Harry are you all right?" Hermione asked.  
"What's up mate?" Ron said through a mouthful of hash browns.  
"Nothing, just tired."  
"Do you have a lot of work?" Hermione asked. "I know I do, Professor Vector wants us to write an essay on ancient Arithmancy."  
"No-no," Harry said. "I couldn't go to bed last night," Harry said, feeling that he wasn't really lying.  
"All right," Hermione looked at Harry suspiciously. "What've we got next?"  
Ron dived into his bag and emerged with a very tattered looking piece of parchment. "Defense Against the Dark Arts."  
"Great," Harry said miserably. "Really great."  
"Oh don't be talking!" Seamus Finnigan called from further down the table. "He doesn't try to curse you all the time! I had me dad write and complain to Dumbledore about him!"  
Harry smiled weakly at Seamus, who began pouring syrup over eggs.  
  
They entered the Defense Against the Dark Arts class, and to all the Gryffindors surprise, Gingle was sitting calmly at his desk in standard black robes. His hair was even brushed. When the bell rang he stood--it was like he was a different person.  
"Hello class," he said evenly. "Take out your quills, and open your books to page..."  
Ron and Harry exchanged astonished glances.  
  
"He's ill!" Dean Thomas said as they left the classroom. "He's got to be."  
"Too many people were complaining," Parvati said. "Dumbledore told him to stop acting like a nut or he'd be sacked."  
"Weird, though, isn't it?" Ron said.  
"Weird?" Seamus shouted. "It's fantastic! He won't curse me anymore--this is the best day of my life!" 


	14. Hagrid's Chance

Fortunately, the immense workload kept the cardinal off of Harry's mind. Everyone from tiny Professor Flitwick to Professor Trelawney seemed to be obsessed with the O.W.L's. Snape was even worse.  
  
"Longbottom, really, you are the worst most pathetic student I've yet seen. You might as well snap your wand in half and live with the Muggles."  
  
"You can't say that!" Hermione exploded. "It isn't his fault that he isn't taught Potions properly" Her hair was mussed and her face was bright red.  
  
"Ten points from Gryffindor," Snape said silkily.  
  
"Ten points back to Gryffindor," Hermione muttered under her breath.   
  
She sat back down and misreading Ron's look of surprise, said, "Well I am a prefect, I can give myself points."  
  
"No-you just exploded at Snape like that. Last time I saw you that mad you quit   
Divination and slapped Malfoy. Think you could slap him again?"  
  
"I'm just having a hard day," Hermione said in a high voice. "I've got loads of work."  
  
Ron leaned in to talk to Hermione. He looked very serious. "Really Hermione, I think the best thing you could do would be to slap Malfoy again--take out the stress you know. Come on just try."  
  
Hermione couldn't help but smile.  
  
  
  
The next morning Harry got a letter from Sirius. Hary read it quietly to Ron and Hermione.   
  
Harry-  
There's not much I can tell you but be careful. We still don't know why Voldemort is lying low but we've got an idea, and it may not be what it seems to you. Don't worry, security around the castle has increased, and you're with Dumbledore. Me and Buckbeak are fine.  
-Sirius  
  
"Well what's that supposed to mean?" Ron asked. "It may not be what it seems to you?"  
  
Hermione was reading the letter over, "I don't know," she said. "I guess he's just telling you to be careful."  
  
Harry shrugged, "As long as the dementors don't have him then I'm happy."  
  
  
  
The next trip to Hogsmeade was scheduled for the following Saturday. A blistering cold had settled around the castle, and many of the students were wearing their cloaks to classes. Fred and George could be seen selling, ""Dragon Snorts" which were fist sized balls of fire that were portable, "Great for playing tricks in class, nonburnable and nice and warm to get you through this cold weather!" Fred shouted out to the Gryffindor common room one night.  
  
That Saturday Harry and Ron wore their warmest cloaks, and bundled up in scarves that Mrs. Weasley had knit for both of them, and met Hermione in the common room.  
  
"Ooh, it's freezing out!" Hermione said when she met them. "I really fancy a butterbeer."  
  
They went to the Three Broomsticks, which was already very crowded, half the Hogwarts students being there. Harry, Ron, and Hermione, sat down at a table in the corner, where Ron immediately left to get drinks. Most of the Hogwarts teachers were there, Harry could see Professor McGonagoll and Professor Flitwick talking avidly, and Professor Gingle was (really, very normally) buying a gillywater.  
  
"Harry," Hermione said. "I just wanted to ask you-you're all right aren't you? I mean you've had a really hard year. First that stuff at Christmas and then the whole cardinal thing. You are all right, aren't you?"  
  
"Yeah," Harry said. "I'm fine-really Hermione.  
  
"All right then," Hermione said, but she didn't look convinced.  
  
"Couldn't give me a hand with these, could you?" Ron said from behind a mound of butterbeers.  
  
"Oh Ron, here I'll get that," Hermione took two frothing mugs of butterbeer and handed one to Harry.   
  
"Would you move?" came a bored voice. "Your blocking my way."  
  
Both Ron and Harry whipped around. It was Malfoy.  
  
"I mean really, your feet, they're enormous, they're taking up the entire aisle."  
  
"Oh you-" Ron said gritting his teeth.  
  
"Malfoy how are you?" Hermione said cheerily. "And Professor Fidel, you were awfully sorry to see her leave. Have you been keeping in touch?"  
  
Malfoy glared. He turned back to Ron, "Oh I'm so terribly sorry, you were flirting with the Mudblood over here, well I'll just let you get on with your business-"  
  
"You shut your mouth," hissed Ron. Harry was holding him back.  
  
"All right don't fight me, I mean what could I expect from you, Weasley? Well I'll be on my way now, don't want to be spotted talking to a bunch of Mudbloods and   
Muggle lovers." Malfoy smirked and walked away where he met his two cronies, Crabbe and Goyle, who began to whisper darkly.  
  
"Oh I'm gonna kill him some day," Ron said as he watched Malfoy leave. "Flirting with Hermione, hmmph! As if!"  
  
"Don't let him bother you," Hermione said. "He isn't worth your time."  
  
Harry looked around his shoulder. Cho had obviously forgotten about him, as she was back with Roger Davies, laughing, with one arm around his waist.   
He could see Ginny and her friends at a table-and at the table next to them was Dean Thomas, Seamus Finnigan, and Neville Longbottom. Suddenly Ginny looked up, and caught Harry's eye. Blushing furiously Harry turned his head the other way, and looked out the window where….there was a cardinal.  
  
"Hermione, Ron!' he said in a low voice. "Look there-" he pointed to the cardinal.  
Hermione and Ron whipped around. "Oh!" said Hermione quietly.   
  
"But, you know, it could just be a cardinal," Ron said awkwardly.  
  
"I think it's my mum," Harry said in a very, very quiet voice.  
  
"But Harry-it can't be. I mean-"  
  
"I know, I know she's dead. But everyone thought Wormtail was dead and-never mind."  
  
The cardinal had flown away.  
  
  
  
The Easter holidays were not exactly fun. The teachers had piled work on them in preparation for the O.W.L's.  
  
"They're months away!" complained Ron, but Harry didn't mind the work. It kept his mind off other things, like the cardinal.  
  
Even Fred and George who were about to take their N.E.W.T's the highest qualification Hogwarts offered, were found working once or twice in the common room, though cynics thought they were just thinking up new inventions.  
  
So slowly the winter eased into spring, and Harry began seeing more and more of the cardinal although, as Hermione logically said, "Well now the birds are coming back up north."  
  
  
One Saturday when Ron proclaimed the workload, "Just too much," Harry suggested going down to Hagrid's.  
  
"Wanna come Hermione?"  
  
"Ooh I don't know," Hermione said. "I've got loads to do."  
  
"Come on Hermione," Ron wheedled. "We haven't been to Hagrid's in ages."  
  
"Oh all right," Hermione sighed. "But I really hope he won't ask us to help him with the giants."  
  
Night was falling rapidly as they approached Hagrid's hut. Someone was obviously home this time-the chimney was billowing smoke, and candles were flickering in the windows. As they came nearer they heard something else-music.  
  
"What is that?" Harry asked. It sounded like classical music played on a musical saw.  
  
Hermione covered her ears.  
  
"Oh god!" Ron said, "I think it's Odealian. He's this awful dead wizard composer. Percy listens to it all time so that people think he's twenty years older than he is. Even my dad can't stand it."  
  
"But why is Hagrid listening to that?" Hermione asked as she approached the window.   
  
"Oh," she said quietly. "Oh it's so sweet, come here and look."  
  
Tentatively Ron and Harry came up. Inside the hut was Hagrid, wearing his hideous hairy brown suit was sitting at his table sharing a candlelit dinner with…what looked like, Madam Maxime.  
  
"Oh, wouldn't it be wonderful if they got married?" Hermione said. Hagrid was pouring Madam Maxime a glass of nettle wine.  
  
Ron and Harry exchanged looks, "Come on Hermione, let's leave them alone." Ron said.  
  
"All right, I really ought to get to work on our Magical History essay anyway."  
  
"But that's not due till next week!" Ron called out indignantly. "Nutters," Harry heard him say under his breath. "Positively nutters." 


	15. Sparks

The work they were getting now was immense. Every single teacher was giving them hours worth of homework, in preparation for the O.W.L's. Ron, Harry, and Hermione were working in the Gryffindor common room one night when Parvati Patil came bursting in through the portrait hole.  
  
"They're going to have a dance!" she cried out. "In June, just like the Yule Ball." She turned to her friend, Lavender, "What do you think I should wear?"  
  
"Great a dance. Guess they think it'll relieve the nerves." Ron said grumpily. "Relieve our nerves! Ha!"  
  
"You're just like that because you had a horrible time at the Yule Ball," Hermione said. "I bet this time you'll have a wonderful time."  
  
"Yeah. Now I've got to do all this homework and try to find a date. Great, really it's wonderful."  
  
"What if I asked you to the dance?" Hermione said in a small voice. Harry pretended to be very interested on his oracle bones chart.  
  
"Um-" Ron was bright red. "Well, all right."  
  
And they all went back to their homework, Ron smiling slightly.  
  
  
  
Harry really didn't care about the dance in June-after all, he did feel there were more pressing issues, such as passing Potions.  
  
"Potter I have no idea how you even made it to your fifth year," Snape said silkily in Potions one day.   
  
"This potion is green. It was supposed to be purple, don't you understand that? Detention next Tuesday for sheer stupidity!"  
  
Harry glared at Snape who turned away to admire Malfoy's very purple potion.  
  
Harry stormed out of class as soon as the bell rang; Ron and Hermione had to walk fast to keep up with him.  
  
"It's all right, you'll find a date to the dance,." Ron said.  
  
"That isn't what I'm mad about," Harry said through gritted teeth. "Snape just gave me a detention because of that stupid potion."  
  
"Oh, Harry, if you need help-"  
  
"I don't need help," Harry said. "I just want to rest." And he went off to lunch.  
  
  
  
That night in the common room Harry was trying to turn his hair blue, practicing a Hair Spell that McGonagoll hinted that they'd need to know for the O.W.L's. Ron and Hermione were talking quietly at the other side of the table.  
  
"Harry,' said a small voice. Harry jumped, sending red sparks through the common room.   
  
"Sorry!" he called out. He looked behind him, to see the keeper of the voice. It was Ginny.  
  
"I was just thinking, about the dance." Harry felt his stomach turn about.  
  
"Do you want to go with me?" they both said in the same breath. Ginny laughed.  
  
"Um-well then," Harry said.  
  
"See you at the dance!" Ginny turned and left, her face bright red.  
  
"You're going with Ginny?" Ron asked. "My sister?"  
  
"So?' Harry said gruffly, looking down.  
  
"Nothing, I just never thought you liked her," Ron said.  
  
Harry was in too much of a good mood to snip at Ron, "Well I…do, a little," he said quietly. "I mean, she's very nice."  
  
Hermione was glowing at Harry, "Good job, now you two will have fun at the dance instead of skulking off.'  
  
Harry smiled weakly, but feeling rather happy, he went upstairs and to bed. 


	16. Fawkes

"Ow!" Harry's scar was burning. He sat up in bed, rubbing his scar. He thought of waking Ron but decided against it. Last time this had happened Voldemort had been right next to him. Harry whipped around, half expecting Voldemort to be standing over his bed. He looked at Ron sleeping, wondering for half a second if he should get him up. Harry shook his head.   
  
He should tell Dumbledore. He should have the first time his scar hurt him. He was only a 15 year old wizard with an ineptitude for potions; Dumbledore was the most powerful wizard ever. It was obvious.  
  
Harry got up, wrapping a bathrobe around him and put his slippers on. He had no time to get his Invisibility Cloak, he'd just have to risk hetting caught. Because he had to tell Dumbledore; what if Voldemort came now? Massaging his scar, Harry slipped downstairs and out the portrait hole, where he walked quickly towards Dumbledore's office. The castle was dark and shadowy at night, and Harry crossed his fingers hoping he wouldn't run into Filch or Peeves as he reached the second floor, straining his mind to remember where Dumbledore's office was.  
  
"BOOM!"  
  
There was an enormous explosion in the Entrance Hall. Harry ran down the last flight of stairs and suddenly stopped. Dumbledore was standing on the opposite staircase, his wand raised. His eyes were glowing with a fiery anger and his hat was frayed--it appeared someone had tried to curse him.  
Harry looked down to see who Dumbledore was looking at-Harry gulped.   
  
It was Professor Gingle, his back turned to Harry, holding Fawkes, Dumbledore's phoenix, under one arm.  
  
"Put the bird down!" Dumbledore said clearly.  
  
"My Master needs him-" Professor Gingle said laughing maniacally.  
  
Dumbledore was running down the stairs, agile for an old man. "Put the bird down!" he repeated, his voice now louder.  
  
Professor Gingle caught sight of Harry. For a moment Harry considered running but he couldn't. His legs seemed frozen to the ground.  
  
Suddenly Gingle lunged at Harry, grabbing him by his wrists and pointing his wand at him. He threw Fawkes to the ground.  
  
"Have your bird, but the boy dies!" Gingle hissed. "Suffuco!"  
  
Harry felt fear rushing through him; he couldn't breathe. It felt as though energy was being sucked out of him, his knees were growing weak. He felt so light headed.  
  
And then Harry saw it, at the top of the ceiling-the cardinal. His mother would be with him when he died...  
Dumbledore was saying something, but Harry couldn't hear, there was a dull drumming noise in his ears. Fawkes had flown to the top of the stairs and was singing a beautiful and mournful song.  
Harry felt something well up inside him, he didn't know what. The phoenix's song was coursing through every vein in his body, he felt strong and brave.  
  
The cardinal up in the rafters was twitching-it's beak kept biting it's wing-he couldn't stand the phoenix song. And Harry noticed, it was watching Gingle.  
  
And then Harry had a sudden revelation. This bird wasn't his mother, it never was….  
  
"Dumbledore! The cardinal in the rafters!" Harry said, through Gingle's arms. There was a loud bang and   
Harry felt something wet on his arm-Gingle had used a Shearing Charm on his arm; blood was sinking through his robes. Pain coursing through him, Harry fell to the ground, gasping for air.   
  
Dumbledores eyes got wide and he looked up at the cardinal, victory flashing on his face. "Stupefy!" he called, his blue eyes angry and powerful. The cardinal fell to the ground-and so did Gingle.  
  
Fawkes gave a low warble and flew to Harry, laying his beautiful head on Harry's arm. He was crying. Where Harry's wound was, a pearly patch of tears replaced it.   
  
Harry stroked Fawkes's head.  
  
Dumbledore looked furious, but not at Harry. "Are you hurt?"  
  
"No-look," Harry showed Dumbledore the patch of tears. "I just-I don't understand."  
  
"I don't expect you to,' Dumbledore said. He picked up the tiny cardinal and muttered something under his breath. The bird rose into the air, and Fawkes let out an angry warble. But the cardinal was changing-it's wings became long arms, his feet replaced claws. He changed into a long, lean man of around forty.  
  
"Rexby," Dumbledore said again. "Harry, go to the hospital wing."  
  
"But….?"  
  
"I'll explain everything later. Go to Madam Pomfrey."  
  
And Harry, still feeling light-headed, went to the hospital wing, where he collapsed, all of his energy gone. 


	17. Behind Green Eyes

Harry woke feeling sick to his stomach-his scar hurt! He had to tell Dumbledore! Then he remembered what had happened…Fawkes, the cardinal, Professor Gingle. He rolled over, thinking to himself…what had happened?  
  
"Hello Harry," Dumbledore was sitting next to him. Harry felt a million questions exploding in his head at once.  
  
"Professor Dumbledore," Harry said breathlessly. "I-I don't understand."  
  
"You've only been in the hospital wing the night. Everything's all right-I can explain everything that   
happened now."   
  
Harry nodded.  
  
"Since the beginning we knew that Voldemort would be taking something from the school. Professor Snape went undercover with the Death Eaters-that's why he was absent. He reported back that Voldemort was going to steal Fawkes."  
  
"Fawkes? But I thought-"  
  
"I forgot you were present at that meeting on Christmas. No, Voldemort wasn't trying to kidnap you. It was Fawkes that he wanted."  
  
Harry was baffled. "But why?"  
  
Dumbledore took in a deep breath, "It is difficult to explain. Phoenixes' possess very magical qualities of their own. They can heal wounds,carry large loads, but most importantly their song gives courage to the pure of heart. It is our side's greatest weapon, Fawkes; he can instill fear in the Death Eaters and give ourselves the greatest of bravery. I think that was why Voldemort wanted him; to kill him and take away one of our most powerful weapons."  
  
Harry felt breathless. That was why Professor Gingle was carrying Fawkes....  
  
"Voldemort had no one that he could plant inside the castle to take Fawkes. Instead he put Professor Gingle under the Imperius Curse."  
  
"Voldemort did?"  
  
"No," Dumbledore said slowly. "One of Dumbledore's supporters. His name was Didibus Rexby."  
  
"He's dead!" Harry said.  
  
"Oh no, not at all. That's only what Voldemort wanted you to think. He set the Dark Mark up over Rexby's house and had Rexby hide under cover. After all, once of his followers faked his death once, another one could do it."  
  
"What?"  
  
"Rexby's very much alive. He was the one who set the Dark Mark off at Halloween, probably lurking around the castle, bored until he could make his move, his idea of...fun. Yes, he's alive but he'll be going to Azkaban soon if I'm not much mistaken."  
  
"But how could he…I mean, control Professor Gingle?"  
  
"Rexby was an unregistered Animagus. He could change into a cardinal at will. Unless I'm very wrong, I believe that Rexby has been hovering around the castle, giving Gingle orders, ever since January. You saw him up in the rafters last night."  
  
"I-I thought it was my mum," Harry said in a small voice.  
  
"Yes," Dumbledore closed his eyes and took off his glasses. "Lily's nickname at school was Cardinal. But she's dead Harry, you cannot dwell in the past. You're mother is very much alive in you. See, you have her eyes."  
  
Harry blinked away a few tears while Dumbledore cleaned his glasses with his sleeve.  
  
"Phoenixes are born from their ashes," Dumbledore finally said. "They reflect life. For you see, in life, good comes from all evil. From the ashes, a new, greater thing shall rise; it is a natural order. It's been proven Harry-the night your parents died, the Dark Lord fell. This is something more magic than anything you will learn here, it is something the greatest wizards cannot grasp, it is the order of the phoenix."  
  
Harry closed his eyes and thought for a moment. "Is Gingle…is he all right?" Harry finally said.  
  
"Professor Gingle is fine, though somewhat shaken. I doubt after this incident he will come back and teach."  
  
"Right." Harry closed his eyes once again.  
  
"I'm sure later this afternoon Madam Pomfrey will allow you out of bed, I'll be needing to address the students sometime tomorrow."  
  
Harry massaged his still dully throbbing scar. That's why it didn't hurt in July-Rexby hadn't died at all. And Cardinal… he remembered what Dumbledore had said, "Your mother is very much alive in you. See, you have her eyes." 


	18. The Upper Hand

When Madam Pomfrey allowed Harry to leave the hospital wing (though to much protestation) Harry immediately went to see Ron and Hermione and told them what happened.  
  
"Mad, though, isn't it?" Ron said. "Why Fawkes?"  
  
Harry thought a moment. "Phoenixes are powerful I guess. Dumbledore explained and I think I sort of understand. Fawkes is a weapon for us."  
  
"But You Know Who--he can still come back?"  
  
"Yeah I suppose so. But they've got people against him. They're trying to stop him.   
Look at Hagrid and the giants--and the meeting at Christmas."  
  
Ron looked down.  
  
Hermione finally said in a hushed voice"And the cardinal wasn't your mum then."  
  
"No," Harry said, looking out the window and was silent for a very long time. "It wasn't."  
  
  
Dumbledore spoke to the students the next day at supper. He only told them that there was an attempted attack that Voldemort was behind. Several students, Harry could tell, were stirring up their own rumours.  
  
"Voldemort's hiding in the loos," Hannah Abbott whispered.  
  
"Voldemort was killed last night and they don't want to tell us!" Colin Creevey said to his brother.  
  
"Dumbledore IS Voldemort!" a Hufflepuff first year said.  
  
But Harry, Ron and Hermione knew the truth and tried to look as puzzled as   
everyone else even when Professor Gingle announced his resignation.  
  
"YES!" Seamus Finnigan shouted, taking no trouble to disguise his happiness.  
  
  
Because of the attack the final exams--including the O.W.L's--were cancelled ("I can't believe it!" Hermione moaned) but the rest of the students were thoroughly pleased. The final ball was cancelled and Harry couldn't help but feel a pang of disappointment, as he thought of Ginny's red hair.   
  
Soon it was the end of term, trunks were packed, and the Hogwarts Express had pulled up to Hogsmeade station. On the train on the way home Harry, Ron and Hermione sat eating Chocolate Frogs, playing Exploding Snap and talking. Halfway through the voyage Harry got a letter from Sirius.  
  
Harry-  
Dumbledore wrote to me to tell me about what happened between you and Didibus Rexby. All I can say is that James would have been proud of you; you've acted braver than many full grown wizards.  
Keep your eyes out for me this summer. You may see a lovable stray walking down Privet Drive.  
-Sirius  
  
Finally the train pulled into Kings Cross. Harry said goodbye to Ron and Hermione and made his way towards the barrier. He caught Ginny's eye.  
  
"Bye Ginny."  
  
Ginny smiled. "Bye."  
  
Voldemort was still in power, Harry thought, but now they had the upper hand. And smiling slightly he made his way into the muggle world. 


	19. PRINT EASY VERSION AND AUTHORS NOTE!

Authors Note: This is the entire story for a print easy version. I love to print out good fanfics and read them, they always seem more personal that way, so here's the entire story you can get in one easy print.  
  
There's a lot of debate about canon in the fanfic world and I think I tried to stay as close to it as I could. I know a lot of supposed 5th books that are pretty crazy. They ignore Voldemort's rise to power, have Draco crooning John Denver, etc. Which is fine but that's not my style.  
  
If anyone wants to use this story on their site I would be thrilled! Just email me at somacrat@hotmail.com. I also would LOVE someone to do some fanart based on this--I'm a horrible artist. I'd like to see Gingle on paper. Really, PLEASE do any fanart or spinoffs you like, just tell me about it. I would be completely honored.  
  
I hope you liked this story. I know I enjoyed writing it. For now, goodbye, au revoir and adios!  
  
  
  
Harry stirred restlessly. There was a flash of green light...a high voice...the high voice. It was taking Cedric away! He grasped for Cedric's foot, his arm, anything, but all he felt was blood, flesh, and bone. He hit something blindly...Cedric! He was asking for help. Harry tried to pull him away but everytime Harry touched him he would scream, until suddenly he stopped screaming and he lay limp, spread eagled on the ground. And now the high voice was touching Harry's face, laughing as it ran it's cold, sharp fingernail, across Harry's cheek, making him bleed, the blood making the high voice louder, and higher and stronger. Harry woke up in a sweat. He grappled for the light next to his bed and switched it on, put on his glasses, and caught his breath. He'd been having that nightmare for weeks now, ever since he got home from Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Summer's usually weren't fun for Harry anyway (because of the Dursleys, his hideous aunt, uncle, and cousin, Dudley) but this summer just might have been the worst. All he could think about was Cedric and Voldemort, who had returned to power, and how different his world would be. He tried to imagine what it would be like if he tried to confide his fears with the Dursleys. Yes, he could see it now, telling Aunt Petunia how he felt he'd caused Cedric's death, telling Dudley he had nightmares, crying to Uncle Vernon about how scared he was about Voldemorts return. But Harry knew if he tried to say anything about Hogwarts he'd be locked in his room faster than you could say "Quidditch." Even the threat of his godfather, Sirius, wouldn't stop the Dursleys. Harry looked at the clock beside his bed. It was three in the morning. He had been fifteen for three hours. Somehow, Harry didn't care. He closed his eyes and rested a bit. Feeling more calm, he took off his glasses, yawned, and fell into a deep, dreamless sleep... At breakfast the next morning, Harry was very subdued. He was wondering if he should send an owl to Sirius, his godfather, but decided against it. It was just a nightmare, and anyway, Sirius had a lot on his hands. After all, not only was he an innocent convict, but he was now fighting the most powerful and evil wizard in a century. That left his two best friends, Ron and Hermione. Harry had to admit, Hermione might be the cleverest witch in their year, but neither she nor Ron could help him much. "Damnit!" screamed Dudley. He knocked his seventh helping of bacon to the ground. "Mum the Incredible Hulk was cancelled! Mum! MUM!" shouted Dudley. Harry tried to keep from snickering. Dudley'd been watching The Incredible Hulk since he was old enough to work the remote control. "Yes, sweetums?" Aunt Petunia entered the room, her horse-like face, framed by pink curlers. She was wearing a turquoise bathrobe. "They cancelled my show!" screamed Dudley going red in the face. "THEY CANCELLED MY SHOW! I'LL NEVER SEE IT AGAIN! FIX IT MUM!" cried Dudley. Petunia was so wrapped up in Dudley's pitiful woes that she didn't even notice Harry was snorting into his toast. "And--and--and--," cried Dudley. "They're replacing it with an educational show!" "No!" cried Petunia. "Yesssss...," moaned Dudley. Tears were streaming down his face. Harry turned around so Aunt Petunia couldn't see him laughing. "Vernon!" screeched Petunia, calling up the stairs. "Come down here right now!" Uncle Vernon descended down the stairs, straightening a hideous, orange tie. "Yes Petunia?" he asked. "Make this quick now, have to be in the office early." Vernon swelled importantly. Just last week he'd been promoted to vice president of Grunnings, his company. He reached for a piece of toast and began buttering it. "I want you to write to the BBC3. They cancelled Duddy's show!" snapped Petunia. "Supermeatloaf?" asked Uncle Vernon. "No not that one," answered Petunia. "Oh. Er--Flying Super Power Heroes?" "No!" "It's--it's--it's The Incredible Hulk!" moaned Dudley, his ruddy face bright red. He looked more like a pig than ever. "My god, Dudders, that show was for children, you're old--," Uncle Vernon faltered. Dudley was glaring at him. Harry could swear steam was coming out of his ears. "YOU WILL WRITE TO THE TV STATION RIGHT NOW!" yelled Dudley. "I WANT THE INCREDIBLE HULK! YOU MAKE THEM PUT IT BACK ON!" "Oh, yes, yes," said Uncle Vernon, so preoccupied he began to smear butter on his tie, instead of toast. "Of course...when I'm at work I will." And, scared Dudley would have a famous temper tantrum, Uncle Vernon left, without noticing the butter on his tie. When Uncle Vernon was gone, Aunt Petunia rounded on Harry. "And you," she snapped. "What're you staring at? Get a move on now!" Harry forced a weak smile and left, walking through the living room. He collapsed into a hideous brown leather chair and stared out the window. He watched as people passed by on the street. There was an old lady walking a poodle, and a plump middle aged man carrying a briefcase, and three children chasing eachother outside with scooters. Yes, he thought, a woman with a harelip, an orange cat, a man with a moustache, a big black dog. A big black dog? Harry did a double take. He pressed his nose against the glass. Yes, there was no doubt about it. Sirius Black was outside his window.  
  
Harry rushed outside the door, to the side walk where the black dog was waiting patiently. "Sirius," he said under his breath. The dog only wagged his tail and went around the Dursley's house, so he was well concealed behind a bush. Harry blinked, but in that moment the dog had transformed from a shaggy, black dog, to his godfather. Sirius looked pretty well--he had had a shave, he didn't look half so gaunt as before. In fact the only thing that troubled Harry were the deep, dark circles under Sirius' eyes. "Sirius," Harry said. "What're you doing here?" "Dumbledore's orders," replied Sirius. "But here where the Muggles can see you!" cried Harry, realising he sounded like Hermione. "I saw the picture the Muggles had of me on their news two years ago. That was when I was in Azkaban." "How are you? Where's Buckbeak?" Harry said. He still couldn't believe that Sirius had the nerve to turn up on Privet Drive. It must be really important, thought Harry. "I'm fine, Buckbeaks tethered at Hagrid's hut at Hogwarts." "At Hogwarts? Won't they kill him?" asked Harry. "Even if the Ministry had time now to worry about hippogriffs, they wouldn't be able to recognize him," Sirius said. "But--but," Harry spluttered. He sounded like Dudley when he found his show was cancelled. "But--why are you here?" "Dumbledore told me to get you." "But why?" Sirius looked into Harry's eyes. "Voldemort," he said in barely a whisper. Harry felt his stomach doing flip flops. "But . . . I thought he couldn't get me while I was at the Dursley's," said Harry, his brow furrowed. "Dumbledore doesn't know; the spell, the er--incantation, was it, that Voldemort did to you," fury shone in Sirius' eyes, "might've made you suscepitble to harm, even with the Dursleys." Sirius looked around. "Dumbledore told me to take you somewhere where Voldemort can't find you." Find him? Harry felt like a hunted animal. "Where should I go? Ron's house?" "No...Mr. Weasley's a Ministry employee. You'd be too easy to find. Dumbledore said to take you to a Muggle friends house--Hermione Granger, I believe? He's already made plans." "I'm going to Hermiones?....I've never been there before," Harry said. He still couldn't believe it...Voldemort was coming? It seemed improbable. "You'll leave today?" "Today?" asked Harry. "What'll the Dursley's say?" "Won't get much of a chance to, will they? Come on," Sirius said, a trace of a smile appearing on his face. "Why don't I take you inside." This would be interesting, Harry thought. The Dursley's lived in a neverending fear of Sirius. How would they feel as he showed up at their home? Harry came back into the house, Sirius behind him. "Harry, have you got your wand?" "What? Are you going to curse Dudley?" "No, don't worry." "I wasn't worrying! It's right here," Harry pulled his wand out of his over-sized pocket--during the summer he always wore Dudley's enormous hand me down clothes. Sirius pocketed the wand and entered the kitchen, a pleasant smile on his face. Petunia was in their making a pound cake--Dudley was eating ice cream, watching cartoons. He seemed to have forgotten the temper tantrum he'd been in a few minutes ago. "Aunt Petunia?" Harry called. "I've got a visitor!" Petunia dropped a bowl on the ground, Dudley whimpered and hid behind a chair. "Hello," said Sirius, smiling in a friendly manner. "I'm Sirius Black, Harry's godfather. And you must be Petunia, Lily's sister. I've heard so much about you." Aunt Petunia looked as if she might throw the egg beater clenched in her hands, at Sirius. "Well, Harry's going to have to leave early, important business to be done. Mind if we gather his things--hate to be so quick, would really like to stay for tea, but we're in a hurry." Petunia was pale. She looked as if she might call the Muggle police. "Oh, and let me get that for you," Sirius smiled, pointing to the broken bowl on the ground. He withdrew his wand--Dudley screeched and continued to try to hide his massive self behind the chairs. Aunt Petunia gasped. But all Sirius did was fix the broken bowl. He smiled and left the room, followed by Harry. "That was brilliant!" Harry said, as Sirius helped him pack his trunk up. "I've never seen Dudley look so scared before!" Sirius only smiled, and handed Harry his wand back.  
  
One day later, Harry was with the Granger family--he'd taken the Muggle underground there, with Sirius, and now had a month to spend with Hermione. The Granger family was very nice. They lived in a small, nicely furnished, perfectly clean house outside of Kent. Harry expected it was so sanitary because the Grangers were dentists. While they weren't at work, Mrs. Granger scrubbed the floors clean and Mr. Granger liked to clean the pipes. The Dursley's would have liked the Grangers home; Harry had never seen one bit of dirt in it. He never even saw Crookshank's hairs on the furniture. Mr. and Mrs. Granger were very polite, but they made Harry and Hermione brush and floss four times a day, something Harry found a bit odd. Hermione apologized profusely. "They feel very strongly about oral hygiene," said Hermione. This was true; Harry and Hermione were fed nearly entirely on a diet of carrots, cereals, and especially milk (high in calcium). Harry longed for a Chocolate Frog, but he knew the closest thing to chocolate in the Granger house was probably soy. Harry had to admit that the Granger's home wasn't nearly as exciting as the Weasley's. Most of the time Harry and Hermione would take walks in the Muggle park and study. It was a little dull. Hermione's parents also didn't believe in television or movies. This, Harry could live without--all he wanted was a nice place away from Muggles view where he could practice Quidditch. His Firebolt was locked in his trunk, and was growing very dusty. Hermione was nice of course, but her idea of an exciting time was reading old Transfiguration books and writing History of Magic essays for extra credit. Harry was a little bored. Hermione didn't say anything about Viktor Krum that summer. He also didn't seem to write her any letters that Harry knew of. Harry decided to keep his mouth shut, but one day he couldn't help it. "Hermione," he said cautiously. "How's Krum doing?" "Oh I haven't written to him since early July," said Hermione. She was looking through her bookshelf for a nice, thick, dull book to read. "Are you still...er, I mean," Harry stuttered. "Going out? No, of course not--I doubt we really ever were. He's in Bulgaria, and he's very happy right now--he's been signed on to their top team with a 7 year contract. Anyway, I'm far too young for him. I wrote to him about that and he understands. Anyway Ron would make fun of me, if I kept seeing him, I know." Hermione turned bright red and Harry knew to change to subject.  
  
Several weeks into August two letters came bearing the Hogwarts seal; one for Harry the other for Hermione. Harry read his through: Dear Mr. Potter, Please note that the new school year will begin on September the first. The Hogwarts Express will leave from King's Cross station, platform nine and three-quarters, at eleven o'clock. I also remind all students fourth year and above to bring dress robes. A list of books for next year is enclosed. Yours sincerely, Professor M. McGonagoll Deputy Headmistress  
  
Harry looked over at Hermione, who was smiling broadly. "I've been made a prefect!" she said with unconcealed delight. "Ooh, this is so exciting! What about you?" Harry turned red. "Er--there's nothing in here about being a prefect," he said. Hermione went even redder, "Oh," she said. She looked as if someone had died. "Oh," she repeated. "I'm sure Snape had something to do with it, after all he hates you." Harry nodded. He didn't mind that much, but Hermione looked awfully sad and sympathetic, as if Harry had just found out he had a deadly disease. "It's all right. Fred and George will make fun of me terribly," groaned Hermione. Hermione smiled gently, and put her letter down. "I'm going to write to Ron, see if he can meet us on the last day of August." Harry nodded as he watched Hermione walk to her desk, fingering her prefect badge proudly. He stifled a snigger.  
  
The Grangers, not being wizards, took Harry and Hermione to Diagon Alley through the Muggle Underground--they must've looked very strange, Harry thought later, with Harry and Hermione's trunks taking up four seats, Hedwig in a cage screeching loudly, Crookshanks terrorizing fellow passengers ankles, and then Mr. and Mrs. Granger, looking very pink in the face. However, when they got into the Leaky Cauldron they didn't look funny at all compared to some of the people; Harry saw a red haired man as large as Hagrid, and another man with white, waxy skin that had suspiciously sharp teeth. Hermione and Harry smiled at the innkeeper Tom, an old toothless man--Mr. and Mrs. Granger smiled nervously. "Er--three rooms," Mr. Granger said. Tom nodded, and with a smile beckoned to two surly looking wizards, who were washing dishes. The wizards took Harry and Hermione's trunks, while Tom took Mrs. Grangers small overnight suitcase and Hedwig's cage, carrying a whole chain of keys in his other hand. Then one by one, they were shown to their rooms, all of them very comfortable. Harry had only stayed in the Leaky Cauldron once, that was two years ago, it was a very enjoyable experience. He met Hermione at the bottom of the stairs, with her parents, who smiled warmly (though somewhat nervously) at Harry, and they proceeded to Gringotts, the great, marble wizarding bank. Harry forgot how much he liked Diagon Alley; last year he had not visited it. There were people in the streets clothed in cloaks, and old witches, and little boys playing on their toy broomsticks. The walk to Gringotts was short, but pleasant. Gringotts looked the same, tall, white and proud looking--a sneaky looking goblin beckoned them in through the door, where the Grangers took out a wad of Muggle money to exchange over the counter. They handed it to a pointed faced goblin who counted it and then carefully handed the Grangers back a sack of golden Galleons, silver Sickles, and bronze Knuts. Harry, who did not have any Muggle money to exchange, but a small fortune, in one of the vaults, took a cart, with yet another goblin, to his vault. The Grangers did not go with him (Harry expected they were scared to death of the roller coaster like ride). Harry grabbed some coins, without looking, and resurfaced, where Hermione met him. It was very nice having a bag full of money, jangling to be spent, and the first thing he and Hermione did was stop at the Leaky Cauldron for a butterbeer. They sipped their butterbeers slowly for a minute before Hermione said. "So, You-Know-Who was after you?" Harry looked into his butterbeer--Hermione hadn't mentioned Voldemort at all while he was staying with her. It was a little hard to talk about. "Yes. Dumbledore reckons he was coming to finish me off. I mean, he can't, I was with the Dursley's, but I guess the--er--potion, um, thing, could've stopped that." "So he hid you at our house?" Hermione had a slight smile on her face. "Er--yeah. But that's cause your family's Muggle and all--," "Hermione!" a voice shouted. "Harry! How are you?" It was Ron Weasley, looking as freckled as ever. He looked very cheerful for someone who was to start school in a day. "How are you?" he asked, pulling up a chair. "Fine," Hermione said with a grin. "You've bought your stuff?" "Yeah, George, Fred, me and Ginny are here with mum. So you're a prefect Harry?" "No," said Harry, shrugging. "Great, me neither. I was afraid they'd have made you one, cause, well it's you, isn't it? Famous Harry Potter." Hermione cleared her throat awkwardly. "Oh don't be mad I didn't ask you Hermione," groaned Ron. "We all knew you'd be made one. You're like a miniature Percy or something." Hermione was about to retort something back but she shut her mouth, as if deciding not to bother. "Hey, you going to finish that?" asked Ron, he nodded towards Hermione's butterbeer. Hermione only waved her hand, so Ron grinned and grabbed the butterbeer. "Do you think you'll be all right at Hogwarts Harry?" asked Hermione. "After all, You Know Who might come . . ." Ron spluttered his butterbeer out. "What? But--but Dumbledore's there, right? And Dumbledore's after all, more powerful." "But . . . oh Harry I'm just worried." "Don't be," Harry said and he wasn't lying. "The safest place on earth is where Dumbledore is, after all. And Voldemort hasn't been doing anything for a while, has he?" Ron and Hermione exchanged dark looks. "Oh," said Hermione awkwardly. "Oh, Harry, right before your birthday, there was another one." "You mean a disappearance though, don't you," Harry said, feeling as if his stomach had been replaced with worms. Ron shook his head. "It was a wizard, he worked for the Ministry. My dad met him once, said he was nice and everything." "But why?" "Why'd You Know Who kill anyone?" said Hermione dryly. "He probably just liked it." "It made a real stir," said Ron. "It was the first real publicized killing-- you know, the Dark Mark was shot up. It scared Ginny out of her wits." "I didn't feel my scar hurt though . . ." "Dunno..." Ron said. There was an awkward silence. "Erm--," Hermione said after a while. "Maybe we should get our books now, don't you think?" Harry nodded. "S'pose." His mind really wasn't on books. Now someone else had died--all because Harry had let Voldemort come back to power.  
  
The night before leaving for Hogwarts was a pleasant one. The Weasleys, Grangers, and Harry all had supper at the Leaky Cauldron and the Weasley's who'd been in Diagon Alley for a week already, began to pack up. Hermione and Harry, sat on the floor of Hermione's room, playing Exploding Snap, which was much more fun the Muggle card games. Harry noticed that Ron peeked through the open door, from the hall, several times. Finally they all had a cup of hot cocoa ("On the house," said Tom with his usual toothless grin) and Harry fell asleep. He was too tired to even think about Voldemort. What a nice dream, thought Harry, feeling warm and comfortable. There was orange swarthing around him, a comforting swirl of rich deep russet, that entwined him. Harry felt safe, and happy--and there were two burning brown lights, as warm and comforting as the russet, peering right at him. Harry rolled over in his bed and sighed, burying his face in a pillow. What a nice voice. "Harry . . .Harry . . ." it said. But the voice was getting sharper--Harry sat straight up. There was Ginny Weasley, her bright red hair, curling from the humidity, her big brown eyes smiling at him. "Harry, mum told me to come in and get you up." Harry felt funny--what was Ginny doing in here? He was in his pajamas! "What time is it?" he said, harsher than he expected. "It's eight thirty," Ginny replied. She was already dressed, her face scrubbed clean. "Come on, up!" she grabbed his arm and dragged him out of bed. "We'll be late." Harry yawned, and put a bathrobe on over his pajamas. "The train doesn't leave until eleven though." "Oh we're not going on the train," Ginny said. "The Ministry's taking all of us--at least, you, me, Hermione and my brothers--to Hogwarts." Harry was beginning to ask why but he stopped himself. Voldemort. "What time's it coming?" Harry said, alarmed. "Oh don't be worried, it won't come until a quarter to ten. Well I'm going-- you better hurry, breakfast's downstairs--you better come down before Fred and George replace all of the turnovers with Canary Creams." Harry grinned, thinking of Fred and George's "Canary Creams" which had terrified Gryffindor students for the entirety of last year. He sighed, and pulled on some jeans and a tee shirt, stuffed his wand in his pocket and went down the hall to the bathroom where he found Ron brushing his teeth. "Hey Harry," Ron said. Of course, since his mouth was full of Goobers Super- Clean Extra-Whitening Curse Free Toothpaste it sounded a bit more like "Fay Farry!" Harry smiled, and took off his glasses, splashing his face with cool water-- it felt good. Ron spit into the sink next to him. "Mum tell you? We're taking the Knight Bus to Hogwarts." Harry nodded, his own mouth full of toothpaste now. He spit into the sink. "Ginny." "Wonder why..." Ron said. "I mean everyone else is riding the Hogwarts Express. You don't think it would have something to do with...hey Hermione this is a boys bathroom, get out!" "You didn't seem to mind when you went into Myrtle's bathroom," Hermione said, with a toothbrush and Muggle toothpaste in hand. "Anyway only you two are in here and there's tons of girls in the other bathroom," Hermione looked at Harry and Ron's shocked faces. "All I'm going to do is brush my teeth," she said as if explaining to someone very slow. Ron still looked suspicious, but at least didn't protest. He sat against a towel holder and watched as Hermione flossed her straightened teeth no less than three times. "Blimey," he said, as the three left the bathroom. "I guess it must have something to do with having a dentist for a mum."  
  
The Knight Bus pulled up at exactly 9:45 as Ginny had promised. Unlike their previous rides to Hogwarts, which involved flying cars, hooded dementors, and some very suspicious Every Flavor Beans, the Knight Bus was rather uneventful. Harry, Hermione and Ron sat on a bed talking while Fred and George tried to make Ginny eat a new invention: Tummy Truffles. "You'll be laughing for hours, come on Ginny," said Fred, trying to squeeze a chocolate Tummy Truffle into her mouth. Ginny shook her head, her mouth clamped shut "You'll be cracking up!" George wheedled. "Oh no!" said Ginny. "I don't want to think what that would do to my stomach!" But before she could close her mouth, Fred had stuffed a Tummy Truffle into Ginny's mouth. Ginny chewed on it a little. "Not bad," she said slowly. "What's this going to do to--" Suddenly Ginny doubled over, falling off the bed that she'd been sitting on, giggling, and laughing, pounding on the ground. "Candies that tickle you! Marvelous!" cried George. "Brilliant," said Fred as he watched Hermione perform the counter curse on Ginny who was glaring at Fred with great anger.  
  
Hogwarts was gray and drizzly. The train had not arrived yet, when the conducter, a smiling young wizard opened the door opened the door with a smile. Harry, Ron, Hermione, Ginny, Fred and George, all stumbled out, looking rather green. "Never again," muttered Ginny who was green, both from being tickled, and from the jolty buse ride. They reached the dining hall before everyone else, the magical ceiling, a dull grey. Everyone took seats at the Gryffindor table, talking quietly. But Fred and George had other ambitions. "We're going to the Slytherin table to put Filibuster Wet-Start Fireworks in all the Slytherin's goblets," said Fred with a grin. "When they fill up the goblets with pumpkin juice..." George trailed off, and both of them snuck away, chortling to each other. Hermione looked slightly worried, but everyone else was grinning. "I wonder if they're going to have a Yule Ball this year," said Ginny out of the blue. "I mean, I'm in fourth year now and..." she blushed. "It would be nice to go with someone besides Neville.' Ron rolled his eyes. Neither he no Harry had enjoyed the Yule Ball very much the previous year. However to everyone's great surprise Hermione spoke up. "I hope they do," she said. "It was very nice last year." "Well yeah," muttered Ron, "that's because she was with Vicky." Harry glanced at Hermione to see if she'd heard that, but she had stood up, and looked attentive, as if straining to hear something. "I think," she said, "I think the Hogwarts Express is here." "Good," Ron said, pulling Hermione down by the sleeve of her robes. "I want to eat." Sure enough, soon hundreds of students began pouring into the Great Hall. Harry watched as Colin and Dennis Creevey took places at the Gryffindor table, only a few seats down from Harry. His eyes followed a group of Hufflepuffs whom Harry had Herbology with. He watched the Slytherins take seats at their table, casting dirty looks around them, unaware of what lay in their goblets. Harry blushed furiously as he watched a certain Ravenclaw girl talking to her friends. Harry frowned--everything seemed so normal, as if Voldemort had never returned. Harry wondered what was going on, what Voldemort was playing at? "Harry," Hermione hissed in his ear. "Look, Snape's not at the head table." Harry did a double take. Professor Snape had loathed Harry, and made his first four years at Hogwarts as miserable as possible. All the other teachers were up front--Harry saw Professor McGonagoll, and Hagrid, and of course, Dumbledore swathed in robes of blue--he noticed two new faces, one a very young witch, the other a man in bright green glasses--he was speaking animatedly to Professor Flitwick, the Charms teacher, on his left; the latter was shrinking away. Ron peered around Hermione to Harry. "Snape's not here, Snape's not here!" he said ecstatically. "Party in Gryffindor tower!" Harry forced a smile. In any other circumstances Harry might've thrown a party right then and there. However, Harry remembered Snape leaving last year...on business, with, Harry suspected, Voldemort. The first years, looking scared and nervous, all filed in. Harry was looking forward to the Sorting--due to unfortunate circumstances he'd only seen it twice before. Unfortunately before he could even sit down, Harry felt a hand upon his shoulder. It was Professor McGonagoll, head of Gryffindor house. "Harry," she said, and Harry's mind raced trying to think of what he'd done. "Harry, I'd like a word with you in my office." Did he do anything he shouldn't have on the Knight Bus? No...unless the Tummy Truffles....but that was Fred and George not him! Maybe in Diagon Alley? He was only there one day. Perhaps the it had to do with the Dursleys--yes, Petunia probably reported Sirius to the Muggle police. Not that they could do anything, but still, if Black was found, and the Ministry got hold of him...Harry bit his lip. Yes, Sirius was in a Muggle jail right now, awaiting the Ministry...and a dementor. Why, Harry though, why had he ever let Sirius go and scare Petunia and Dudley? With his own wand too! He was so stupid... They entered McGonagoll's office. "Harry," she said sitting down (she didn't look angry? Was this a good sign?). "I understand you've been staying with Miss Granger and her family for most of the vacation." "Yes," said Harry apprehensively. "Were you informed why?" "Yeah. Vol--I mean You Know Who." "I'm glad that's straightened out. I hope you know about Didibus Rexby?" "Er who?" "He's a wizard who was, um, killed by--," "Oh. Yes." "Well, then. Yes. Best you enjoy the feast now. Yes--come down, I'll escort you." All that trouble just for a recap of the summer? Harry returned to the dining hall, just in time to see Fred and George's filibuster fireworks going off in the Slytherins goblets. Malfoy was frozen in shock. So perhaps missing the Sorting ceremony and the jolting Knight Bus ride weren't the greatest way for the beginning of the year, thought Harry to himself, but this definitely makes up for it.  
  
The next morning when Harry and Ron entered the Great Hall, the ceiling above them was a dusky grey, mirroring Harry's feelings exactly. He wasn't in the best mood; for one thing the elves had cooked porridge, Harry's least favorite food. For another he had to listen to the Weasley twins complaining for nearly the entire time.  
  
"A detention, can you believe it?"  
  
"Can't these people take a joke?"  
  
"And fifty points lost. All because we wanted to have some fun."  
  
"They're Wet Start No Heat Fireworks, after all. They couldn't hurt anyone."  
  
Obviously the twins had gotten in trouble for their prank on the Slytherins.  
  
"You lost fifty points? So now Gryffindor has negative fifty points!" Ginny said with a smile. "Everyone's going to hate you for it!" she said with delight. She had obviously not forgotten the Tummy Truffles.  
  
But Fred and George were ignoring her. They were looking, instead at someone entering the Hall as if she were a beacon of light.  
  
"Prefect!" called George as he ran up to a rather abashed looking Hermione. "Great Prefect can you save us?" he asked.  
  
"Excuse me?" Hermione said, casting a bemused look at Ron. From behind her Fred gave her a big hug.  
  
"Wasn't that a nice hug Hermione?" asked Fred.  
  
"Er--,"  
  
"We ought to get points for it shouldn't we?" George said coyly.  
  
Hermione rolled her eyes. "I don't think I'm allowed to do that," she said seriously, taking a seat next to Ron.  
  
Fred shrugged. "We tried didn't we?" He beckoned to George and they left the Great Hall, obviously looking for another prefect to hug.  
  
Hermione poured brown sugar on her porridge talking rapidly. "Isn't it great? I can give and take points away, and I have a badge and everything. And I get to use the good bathrooms."  
  
Harry rolled his eyes. "I'm not a prefect and I've gotten to use the prefect bathrooms."  
  
"Well that's just because you always break the rules," snapped Hermione. "Anyway, can you pass the milk jug Ron?"  
  
Ron grinned, passing her the jug, "Can you give me ten points for that?"  
  
The fact that the first class of the day was Diviniation, did not improve Harry's mood in the slightest. Personally, he didn't enjoying starting off the year by being told of his long and painful death.  
  
Sure enough, as Harry entered the smoky, heavily perfumed Divination classroom, he felt a bony, bejeweled hand on his shoulder.  
  
"My dear," Harry looked up. There was Professor Trelawney looking as mystical and absurd as ever. "I do hope that the dark events do not cloud your Inner Eye. In times like these it is best to have a clear perception of the future lest some tragic accident fall upon you."  
  
Harry nodded at Professor Trelawney, and then took a seat next to Ron, rolling his eyes. "You hear that Ron, my Inner Eye's clouded. Good to know, that is." he muttered.  
  
Ron snorted. "Be careful, Harry. You may not live to see you're next Divination class."  
  
"I swear," Harry said, picking at the armchair he was sitting in, "if that old bat tries to tell me about how I'm going to die one more time I'm dropping this class just like Hermione."  
  
But Harry and Ron were interrupted by a loud squeal. "Ooh, ooh Professor Trelawney!" Harry turned around to see Lavender Brown and Parvati Patil staring up at Professor Trelawney with blind adoration written across their faces. "Is it true?" breathed Parvati. "The Hufflepuffs are saying that you predicted Cedric Diggory's death when he was in his third year."  
  
"Did you really see him dying, Professor?" asked Lavender, her eyes wide.  
  
Professor Trelawney frowned a bit. "Oh--er--yes," she said in a very unmystical tone. "Yes, I saw him dying while crystal gazing many years ago. I warned him many times when he--er--Kenith did you say?--was in my class; if only he had heeded them," Professor Trelawney sent a very meaningful look at Harry who stared right back at her.  
  
"What a load of rubbish," Ron muttered in Harry's ear. "That Hufflepuff, Hannah Abbott told me that Diggory took Care of Magical Creatures and Muggle Studies."  
  
Hermione joined Harry and Ron after morning break to go to their first Potions lesson without Snape breathing down their necks. Harry was very happy indeed, but Ron was dubious.  
  
"I'll bet you anything Snape got to choose who filled in for him," Ron said. "Ten to one it's Lucius Malfoy."  
  
"Don't be silly," said Hermione. "Lucius Malfoy, a teacher? Honestly!"  
  
Ron stared at Hermione. "I was joking."  
  
Hermione turned bright red, but luckily for her Ron wasn't watching. He, along with everyone else in the corridor, had turned his attention to a wizard that none of them had seen before. His robes were long, green and flowing, with minute, actually leaping frogs, hopping from one sleeve to the other. His hat, unlike the standard black pointed wizards hat, was as well green, it had something that looked like blue tinsel shining on it. His glasses, green as well, were twice the size of his head, magnifying his eyes so they looked bigger and rounder than Dobby's. Bright red hair, even louder than the Weasley's stuck out from under the glowing hat, and on the wizards feet were two jingling shoes.  
  
"Gingle," muttered Hermione.  
  
"Excuse me?" Harry said, his eyes still on the green wizard. He looked like an overgrown Christmas elf.  
  
"Professor Gingle--the new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher."  
  
"Looks like he needs some Defense Against Bad Fashion lessons, if you ask me," Ron muttered as the jingling wizard quickly turned around the corner.  
  
When they entered the dungeons for their Potions lesson, Harry felt a wonderful thrill go up his spine as he thought of half a term without Snape- -half a term without someone to criticize him nor remind him of his "arrogance." Harry looked about eagerly, wondering who the new replacement was but the only new face he saw was that of a girl that couldn't be older than Harry himself. The Slytherins were already in the dungeon, muttering mutinously in a corner. Harry grinned broadly--the Slytherin's of course, must be furious that their favorite teacher was gone.  
  
The bell rang, but the teacher was not to be found. The Slytherins began grumbling even louder, when a small voice peeped up.  
  
"Excuse me! Let's take our seats then!" Harry whipped around. There was no Snape, no Lucius Malfoy--it was the young girl, with a nervous smile and an Austrailian accent. She had bright pink braces on her teeth.  
  
"Hullo," she said, smiling even more nervously, as she looked at the Slytherin's glares. "I'm--I'm Gwyn--I mean, I'm Professor Fidel. I'm, that is, I'll be teaching you until your, um, Professor Snap?"  
  
"Snape," came a drawl from the corner. Harry didn't bother to turn around; he knew that bored voice all too well--Draco Malfoy. "It's Professor Snape, not Snap."  
  
"Oh," the girl said, her smile fading a bit. "Yes, of course."  
  
She took another bold stab, by grinning but only the Gryffindor's smiled back.  
  
"Well then," the girl took a deep breath and looked about. "I suppose you want to know more about me. My name is Gwyn Fidel and I graduated from Auspull--that's a school in Australia--"  
  
"A Muggle school?" came Malfoy's voice.  
  
"No," said the girl, rather taken aback. "No, of course not. I'm a witch."  
  
Malfoy exchanged glances with Crabbe and Goyle, who looked confused.  
  
"Well I thought we could start with a review--er where did you leave off then?"  
  
Hermione stood up. "Please Professor," she said with the same dignity as if addressing Professor McGonagoll. "We've just finished antidotes only last year."  
  
"Antidotes--yes, yes, that's very good," said the girl, biting her lip. "Professor Snape wrote me, saying to start love potions this year--"  
  
A general outcry came from the Gryffindors.  
  
"Love potions?" Seamus Finnigan, a sandy haired Gryffindor fifth year said. "That's girly!"  
  
"You're sick!" said Dean Thomas, Seamus' best friend.  
  
Hermione stood up yet again. "Professor, students at Hogwarts don't do love potions. It's against the rules--it's unfairly manipulating people. And what's more, love potions are very difficult--you'd have to be at least in seventh year to understand the concept!"  
  
"Professor Snape said to start this. You'll have half a term under my supervision to learn a Love Potion and when Professor Snape returns you'll be starting something else. Anyway we won't be testing these potions on people, only flobberworms. I'm sure you'll be able to master them." The girl smiled. "Obviously Professor Snape has great faith in you."  
  
This caused most of the Gryffindors to snort into their cauldrons.  
  
Leaving, Harry could hear Malfoy muttering, "She has a brace on her teeth, really. As far as I'm concerned that Austrailian trash is Muggle."  
  
For once, Harry didn't care about what Malfoy was saying. He and the Gryffindors were too shocked by the fact that they'd be expected to brew a Love Potion by the Christmas holidays. Most of the boys thought it was rubbish--though Lavender and Parvati were giggling a good deal after Potions. However, everyone agreed that love potions were the most difficult things that Snape had ever wanted them to brew, and that was saying something.  
  
"Can you imagine flobberworms kissing?" muttered Ron as they walked to the Great Hall for lunch. It was all they talked about as they ate, until Ron dug out his schedule and announced that the next class was double Defense Against the Dark Arts.  
  
"Is the teacher that one all in green?" asked Ginny, who had just sitten down at the table.  
  
"Course he is," said Ron. "Besides Miss Love Potions, he's the only new teacher, isn't he?"  
  
"I don't have him till Friday. You'll have to tell me all about him," Ginny said to Ron, her brown eyes wide.  
  
"I already can tell you about him, Ginny," said Fred. He and George must've just entered the hall--they looked tired and out of breath.  
  
George pulled up a chair. "Weird," he said, "Incredibly weird."  
  
"But---but is he a good teacher?" asked Hermione nervously.  
  
"How should I know?" Fred asked. "I was just looking at his robes--bright green they are!"  
  
"And his glasses..."  
  
Ron sighed. "We're going to have an interesting afternoon."  
  
The Gryffindor's lined outside the classroom before the bell even rang, not because the were eager to learn but they wanted to glimpse Professor Gingle. They'd all seen him nearly skipping through the halls in his livid green robes, and Parvati Patil said she heard him singing a Celestina Warbeck song as he climbed a staircase.  
  
It was five minutes after the bell rang, and still Professor Gingle did not show up. Ron and Harry exchanged confused glances.  
  
"You reckon he's skivving off?" Ron asked.  
  
"Well, if he is!" Hermione said. "I mean, that's awful, he's a teacher, he's supposed to--"  
  
But what Professor Gingle was supposed to be doing they did not know because suddenly a loud bang errupted from the classroom and Professor Gingle, in green robes and all, emerged with a lopsided grin on his face.  
  
"All right class! Class class class how are you? Very well, very well."  
  
He looked even stranger up close--Gingle's face was long and angular. He kept moving; he was snapping his fingers, tapping his foot, looking this way and that. Behind his bright, enormous green glasses were two wide eyes that kept blinking. Harry looked at Gingle's hat--the blue things he had mistaken for tinsel appeared to be electric blue pixies. Harry had known of fairies being used for ornaments, but pixies were seldom used for decoration. He wondered if Gingle had made a mistake.  
  
"I am--" Professor Gingle said with a grin. "Your new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher. Now, now, what did you do last year?"  
  
To no one's surprise, Hermione raised her hand. "Yes?" barked Gingle with such enthusiasm that Hermione took a step away from him, as she stood up. "We learned the Unforgivable Curses." She looked as though she thought Gingle might devour her at any moment.  
  
"Ah, yes, yes. Very good, very good. Nice curses they are. Nice nice nice."  
  
Harry wouldn't exactly called the Cruciatus Curse "nice."  
  
"This year I think I'll teach you countercurses. Any objections?" He spoke as if the class had a choice of what they would be taught.  
  
"Countercurses?" said Seamus Finnigan loudly. "What's the use of them, we can just dodge them!"  
  
Gingle smiled and began walking around Seamus, rather like a shark circling it's prey. "Don't know," said Gingle airily. "Might be useful . . .if some one does this!" He had leapt behind Seamus and shouted out, "Stagorgio!"  
  
Seamus' head began to shake--Harry at first thought he was being tortured in some sort of way, but then saw that Seamus' neck was swaying side to side--it looked like the jelly legs hex, but instead Seamus' neck was wobbling. Gingle looked quite pleased with himself, as he muttered the counter hex under his breath.  
  
"That's why," he said shortly. "Now who here would like to tell me the difference between a hex and a curse?"  
  
Once again, Hermione's hand shot into the air. "A curse is the broad category of enchantments--a hex is the same as a curse but usually on a smaller level--like the Jelly Neck Jinx," she nodded towards Seamus who was looking rather dizzy. "A curse, such as, well, the Cruciatus, would not be considered a hex or a jinx because it's such a difficult and dangerous curse."  
  
"Good, good, very, very good." Gingle was now twisting his hands. "Fifteen points, fifteen points. This'll be fun, this'll be fun fun fun!"  
  
Harry hated to remember Lockhart's idea of fun. Fun, he repeated to himself. Fun.  
  
All in all, Harry and Ron were glad to see the weekend come. Hermione, on the other hand, looked severely disappointed. She had found Potions lessons fascinating and sat on the edge of her seat during Transfiguration. To Ron's horror, Hermione had even created magical study flashcards (that squirted a nasty green liquid at you when you got questions wrong) to help her prepare for the O.W.L's. This was something she took very seriously.  
  
"Besides the N.E.W.T's this is the most important exam of our lives and I don't know about you, but I want good marks!" she snapped Friday evening as she took out her cards.  
  
"Hermione," Ron said, as if speaking to a child. "Exams aren't until June...it's barely September."  
  
But Hermione didn't seem to hear him. She was wondering aloud if Hogwarts offered any O.W.L preparation classes.  
  
"I'm not helping her study," said Ron, turning onto Harry. "I'm not encouraging weird behavior. Up for going to Hagrids?" Harry hadn't seen Hagrid since last term--he was very keen on seeing him. "Yeah," Harry nodded. "Lets go."  
  
"You coming Hermione?" Ron asked hopefully.  
  
Hermione furrowed her brow, and laid her cards down. "Yeah, yes I will," she said. "Do you think we'll need the Invisibility Cloak?"  
  
"Nah," Ron said, without even looking at Harry. "It's hardly dark out, we're allowed to see him."  
  
And they climbed out of the portrait hole, leaving Harry walking behind them a bit glumly.  
  
"How's Percy now that Crouch is--well," Hermione said.  
  
Ron's face suddenly lit up. "He's been shunted into the Office of Mooncalf Welfare!"  
  
"Mooncalf welfare? But they never have anything to do with the Ministry," Hermione said. "Percy must not be too pleased."  
  
"Yeah," Ron had a glazed, happy look on his face. "Yeah, Mooncalf Welfare."  
  
They were walking on, talking. Harry noticed, with a pang of resentment, that Ron and Hermione had strode right past the Entrance Hall and were going through a passageway. Harry frowned as he watched them walking, and talking quietly, feeling quite sure that they wouldn't miss him. Gritting his teeth, Harry turned sharply, almost running into a suit of armor, as he walked outdoors, into the cool autumn air, and began to walk across the grounds to Hagrids hut.  
  
The giant pumpkins, which Hagrid grew in preparation for Halloween, were new and barely the size of the average pumpkins Muggles would carve. Harry could see candles glowing through the windows of Hagrid's hut, but Harry had to knock three times before Hagrid finally opened the door, looking surprised. Harry noticed there were ink stains on his gigantic fingers.  
  
"'Arry!" Hagrid said, his face lighting up. "How are yeh, thought you'd never see me!" Hagrid held the door open for Harry, who had to blink a couple times. Tons of papers and envelopes were lying on the table in Hagrid's one room cottage, as well as jars of ink and several quills. A tawny owl was in the corner, hooting quietly.  
  
"Er--," Harry said, but Hagrid didn't say anything about the odd appearance of his hut.  
  
"Where's Ron and 'Ermione?" Hagrid asked again. Underneath his wild black hair, Harry saw Hagrid's eyebrows furrow.  
  
"Er," Harry said once again. "They're taking a walk."  
  
"Ah," said Hagrid wisely. "Would yeh like some of me stoat sandwiches?"  
  
Harry shook his head, he'd had too much experience with Hagrid's cooking. "Just some tea then?" Hagrid said once again.  
  
"Yeah, that'd be good," Harry said, trying to catch a glimpse at what the papers said without appearing to be nosing into Hagrid's business. While Hagrid was busy boiling some water, Harry saw the top of the page, the ink still wet, glistening in the candlelight.  
  
To the Confederation of...  
  
"What're yeh doin?" Hagrid whipped around, a pinch of tea leaves in one hand, and enormous tea mug in the other.  
  
Harry turned bright red. He felt horrible for poking into Hagrids business...but still he couldn't help thinking "the Confederation of what?"  
  
"Sorry but it's 'Ogwarts business, 'Arry. And dead boring too. I'd tell yeh if I could," Hagrid set down his tea mug and began gathering the papers, Harry feeling rather abashed. He also couldn't help remember last time Hagrid had Hogwarts business, he'd been procurring the extremely valuable Sorcerer's Stone. Harry seriously doubted that this "business" was dead boring.  
  
"Now," said Hagrid briskly. "Yeh want sugar with yer tea?"  
  
"Er--a bit," Harry said and watched as Hagrid dumped the equivalent of a jars worth of sugar into Harry's tea.  
  
"How are things up at the school, 'Arry?" Hagrid asked, sitting down at the enormous table with Harry.  
  
"All right," Harry answered honestly. "Things are hard because the O.W.L's are coming up but everything's really fine. The new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher is insane, and Snape's gone did you know that?"  
  
"Yeah, but he's comin back," Hagrid said. "Don't get your 'opes up 'Arry."  
  
"You know why he's gone?" Harry asked shrewdly.  
  
Hagrid suddenly began to be immersed in his tea. "That's between Professor Snape and Professor Dumbledore," Hagrid muttered.  
  
Harry got the feeling that Professor Snape seemed to be doing Hogwarts business too. Could Snape have gone back to Voldemort and began his double agent role again? How could Dumbledore trust him?  
  
"Now then, tell me about this Gingle," Hagrid said, allowing Harry to vividly describe Professor Gingle, from his enormous glasses, to Seamus and the Jelly Neck Hex.  
  
When Harry returned to the common room, Hermione and Ron were one of the last ones there, sitting by the fire giggling. Hermione's O.W.L flashcards were forgotten by the fire.  
  
"So you came back?" Harry said, looking down on them. Hermione suddenly stopped giggling and looked up at Harry. "Oh Harry!" she said. "Oh, we're so sorry, we just went straight past the entrance hall and then decided to come back here for some studying--"  
  
"Looks like you were studying to me," Harry said gruffly. He felt somewhat disgusted.  
  
"Are you mad or anything?" Ron asked. His face was very red.  
  
"No," Harry said a little too quickly. No, he wasn't mad--he just felt awkward and uncomfortable. Hermione and Ron? "I think I'm going up to bed," he said finally, and began to march up the stairs, followed quickly by Ron.  
  
"We aren't--there isn't anything going on," Ron said quickly. "We just started talking, and then studying a bit."  
  
"Yep, ok," said Harry, he kept walking.  
  
Ron stood behind him, motionless on the stairs. Harry felt a pang of guilt, but changed into his pajamas and drew the curtains around his four poster bed, all thoughts of Hagrids mysterious letters driven out of him mind.  
  
"Neville Longbottom!" Professor McGonagoll snapped in the middle of a particularly difficult Transfiguration class, Monday morning. "In order to get more than two O.W.L's you need to know something about human transfiguration. If you cannot even transfigure your hair to another color it looks like you won't be getting very far."  
  
Neville looked up, his hair, which was supposed to have been transfigured to a pale blonde, was now pink with green stripes. "Honestly," Professor McGonagoll said under her breath, and transfigured Neville's hair back to it's normal state. "I'm sorry Longbottom, but fifth years are most tedious to teach. Preparing students for the O.W.L's is incredibly important."  
  
Harry was surprised he hadn't been yelled at. His own hair (which he was supposed to transfigure so it was as red as Ron's) was now a funny shade of blonde.  
  
By the time the class let out, nearly everyone, except for Hermione, of course, had to go up to McGonagoll to have their hair changed back to it's normal shade. McGonagoll sighed heavily, and muttered something about failing the O.W.L's. "For homework write a detailed essay on transfiguring your hair's texture! Make it 4 feet and 6 inches long! Due tomorrow!"  
  
"Due tomorrow!" Ron groaned. "That'll take all night on top of what Trelawney and that Dingle gave us! Plus we have to research the stupid Love Potions and..."  
  
"You're depressing me," Harry said as he began to pack his bag. Harry, Ron, and Hermione were acting as if nothing had happened, but everything was a little funny, and Ron wouldn't meet Harry's eye. At least, Ron and Hermione weren't speaking, or giggling but instead were acting incredibly polite and formal toward one another.  
  
"Potter, a word please," Harry heard McGonagoll say. "Go on," Harry said to Ron and Hermione. "I'll meet you in the hall." Hermione nodded and she and Ron left, waiting outside the classroom. Much to Harry's relief, he could hear no giggling.  
  
Harry expected McGonagoll to deliver a lecture on his hideous performance on hair Transfiguration. Instead McGonagoll bestowed a rare smile upon Harry and said, "As head of Gryffindor house, it's my duty to choose the Gryffindor Captain of the Quidditch team. After giving this serious thought, I've decided to appoint you Captain of the Gryffindor team--now before you celebrate let me tell you this comes with many obligations. You need to arrange Quidditch trainings, decide what tactics to use, choose new players..."  
  
But Harry was lost in his thoughts. Quidditch captain! He, Harry was the Captain of the Gryffindor Quidditch team--it was too wonderful to think about. What would everyone say? Maybe...just maybe Cho would pay Harry some attention now.  
  
"Would you like to be Captain?" Professor McGonagoll asked finally.  
  
"Of course I would!" said Harry eagerly.  
  
"Now you'll need to book the field for practice--and please, Potter, train hard. I want to see another Gryffindor victory." She smiled at him once again, and held the door for him. Harry met Ron and Hermione outside. When he told them the news Ron's jaw dropped and Hermione squealed and hugged him.  
  
"Ooh, Harry, this is wonderful!"  
  
"But--but, you're only a fifth year! Why didn't they choose one of the seventh years?" Ron asked still gaping.  
  
"Dunno--you reckon Fred and George'll be mad?" Fred and George played Beaters for Gryffindor.  
  
"Course not," Ron said. "You think they could decide tactics and stuff? Nah, they just like hitting things."  
  
Harry grinned. Then he remembered suddenly--Gryffindor needed a new Keeper-- and that meant, he, Harry would have to appoint one.  
  
  
  
Harry quickly became one of the most popular people in school, at least among the Gryffindors. It seemed everyone, from naive first years, to even some desperate seventh years, were clamoring to be Gryffindor Keeper. Harry didn't know much about the Keepers job, and had never seen any of these people on a broomstick before. Harry would have asked Ron what to do, but Ron kept dropping hints about how he always played Keeper when helping Fred, George and Charlie, with Quidditch practice.  
  
"Hold tryouts," Hermione said one night, as she was doing her homework. Harry got an image of himself as a sort of director on the Quidditch field, scribbling down notes. "I'd feel like a big prat," moaned Harry.  
  
"Of course you wouldn't. Me and Ron will come out on the Quidditch field with you too, in case you felt funny or anything. I'm sure Professor Dumbledore would let you."  
  
"You reckon?"  
  
"Of course! We'll find the perfect Keeper for the team. I'll write up a flyer to post, and then let's go see if we can book the field.  
  
In a weeks time, the flyer Hermione was posted was full of names of Gryffindors who wanted a chance at Keeper. Harry was very relieved that Ron hadn't signed up for a tryout--if he'd had to cut him, Harry'd never be able to look Ron in the face again. However, some of the people who signed up didn't seem like they had ever played Quidditch.  
  
"The Creevey brothers--both of them," said Harry as he looked over the sheet with Ron in the common room one night. "And Natalie McDonald--isn't she the quiet second year?"  
  
"Sort of bookish--really tiny, right?"  
  
"She could pass for Winky she's so short," Harry said.  
  
But the biggest surprise came near the end. "Neville Longbottom?" Harry and Ron gasped in unison. The only time Harry had seen Neville on a broom stick, Neville had lost control and fallen off of it.  
  
"He can't fly!" Ron said. "I mean, it's Neville we're talking about..."  
  
Harry was torn between laughing and anger at Neville. "I can't just cut him from the team when he tries out!"  
  
"3 to 1 he's going to kill himself out there," Ron said.  
  
Harry couldn't help grinning. "You're turning into Bagman."  
  
Harry nervously went out into the stadium, with Hermione and Ron at his side the next week. Ron and Hermione waved goodbye, to sit in the stands, leaving Harry quite alone, with just his broomstick and a couple of tennis balls. The aspiring Keepers were already in the stands with their highly polished broomsticks and hopeful looks on their faces. Harry felt very strange; this was what Madam Hooch and Oliver Wood were supposed to do, not him.  
  
"Er--" Harry said, "All right then. I'll call you up, one by one, and we'll practice some--er--Quidditch. You've all got broomsticks, right?" Nine heads nodded. Harry noticed that Neville was clutching an old Shooting Star.  
  
"Right then." The tryouts were exhausting. Half of the people looked as if they'd never seen a broomstick before. The other half was at best, mediocre. The Creevey brothers both got so nervous that they went back into the castle without trying out at all. But the worst part came when it was Neville's turn.  
  
"Hey Harry," Neville said nervously, the Shooting Star so tight in his hand that Neville's knuckles were white.  
  
"Hey," Harry said glumly. "Right then." "Good luck."  
  
Neville climbed on his Shooting Star, and to Harry's surprise was able to shakily make his way to one set of goals. Harry took a tennis ball in his hand, and flew near the scoring area, throwing the ball in. Neville had barely moved.  
  
"All right, Neville?" Harry asked. Neville was bright pink. "Yes," said Neville in an oddly high voice.  
  
"Right. OK--," Harry took another ball from his sleeves. "This time try-er- catching the ball." Harry threw a simple shot toward the goals, and Neville determined, lunged at the tennis ball. Taking both pudgy hands of the broomstick, Neville caught it-but he'd lost his grip. Still holding the tennis ball, Harry watched in horror as Neville fell 40 feet off his broom.  
  
Harry had caught the Golden Snitch when it was inches away from the ground- when it was hovering over the enemies ear. But now, he couldn't move his broom to get Neville. He could only watch as Neville fell, closer and closer to the ground.  
  
"Faltuous!" a voice cried out. Harry looked down-Hermione was standing in the middle of the Quidditch pitch, a wand raised. Neville was now falling slower to the ground-when he hit it he didn't get up.  
  
He's passed out!" Hermione called up. "Probably scared to death-Ron, go get Madam Pomfrey." Finally gathering his wits, Harry zoomed down onto the ground.  
  
"Neville!" he cried, shaking him. Nothing happened.  
  
"He'll be all right," said Hermione. "What possessed him to try to get on a broom?"  
  
"Dunno," Harry said. "I mean, he's horrible."  
  
"Don't say that. What if you heard your friends saying that you were awful at-well-say Potions?" Hermione looked peeved.  
  
"I'd agree," Harry said fervently.  
  
A few minutes later Madam Pomfrey came running up onto the field, followed by Ron. "Stupid boy," she muttered. "Dangerous sports, broomsticks-far too many ways for students to hurt themselves." She conjured a stretch and lifted Neville on it. "He'll be all right," she said looking at Harry, Ron and Hermione's stunned faces. "But I don't think he'll be wanting to try Quidditch for a long time."  
  
"I told you," Ron said, as they walked back to the castle. "I told you Neville would kill himself."  
  
"He isn't dead," said Hermione. "He's just passed out."  
  
"Yeah but that's just because you did that spell thing." Suddenly, Harry felt a tugging on his robes. He frowned and looked down, to see a tiny girl with enormous eyes.  
  
"I'm Natalie McDonald," she said in a small voice. "And I-I didn't get a chance to try out and I'd really like to." "Keepers usually aren't so short or skinny," Harry said gruffly. The girls face fell, and suddenly Harry felt a pang of guilt.  
  
He sighed, "Go on," he said to Hermione and Ron. "I'll meet you in the common room."  
  
"Thanks," said Natalie breathlessly. "I've been playing with my brothers for years-they're both in Ravenclaw, and I got a Comet 361 for my birthday." She showed him a glistening new broom with the words "Comet 361" emblazoned on it. "Not as good as a Firebolt," she looked jealously at Harry's top of the line Firebolt. "But still decent. Newest in the Comet line."  
  
They reached the Quidditch field; the stands were now empty and dusk was falling. Harry rose on his broom with ease, followed swiftly by Natalie, who took a quick lap around the field and stopped at the three goals. She was good; yes, she was very good, even on a Comet.  
  
"All right," Harry called, holding a tennis ball firmly in his hand. He tossed it, aiming for the left hoop. In a blink of the eye, Natalie had caught it, holding it in her hand with a grin on her face. She tossed it back to Harry.  
  
"That's good!" said Harry, starting to feel excited, and tossed the ball again. What Natalie lacked for in size, she made up in speed and agility. She knew all kinds of tactics, Harry noticed, as she zoomed quickly around the scoring hoops, and attempted the Starfish and Stick (though she was so tiny, she only covered the center hoop). When Harry finally said that they'd had enough, Natalie sped towards the ground.  
  
"Did I do all right?" she asked breathlessly, her enormous eyes peeking out from her stringy bangs.  
  
Harry grinned. "We're going to need to get some Quidditch robes for you."  
  
  
  
The Gryffindor team loved Natalie. Alicia, Angelina, and Katie, seventh years who played as Chasers, doted on Natalie like she was their little sister. Fred and George teased her, which from them, was excellent praise. Natalie, who had always fallen into the shadows was now quite popular-at least she was recognizable. Nearly everyone had something nice to say to her, that is, except for the Slytherins who hissed at her as she passed in the halls. Harry tried to explain to her that hissing was just the sort of thing Slytherins did, but Natalie was still upset by it.  
  
"Don't mind them," Harry said to her in the corridor one day, after Graham Pritchard, a Slytherin second year tried to curse her in the halls. "I have to put up with Slytherins all the time; they're just jealous."  
  
Natalie nodded, but still looked scared out of her wits. Nearly twice a week Harry had to reassure her that the Slytherins were a bunch of nitwits. Between the heavy workload, Quidditch practice, and trying to keep Natalie from having a nervous breakdown, Harry was thoroughly glad when Halloween, and the first trip to Hogsmeade rolled around.  
  
"Have you written to Sirius lately?" Hermione asked as they entered the Three Broomsticks, the pub in Hogsmeade. "You really ought to tell him about you being captain."  
  
"Why? You reckon someone's trying to kill me?" Harry said. He was in a very bad mood-Professor Flitwick had been teaching the class Revealing Charms and Harry couldn't get the hang of it at all.  
  
"No," said Hermione, looking slightly hurt. "I just thought he'd like to know."  
  
Ron interrupted the silence. "I'll get some butterbeers, all right?" he said.  
  
Harry smiled and nodded. Hermione and Ron hadn't been giggling, or really doing anything else, since that night in the common room. Harry was greatly relieved by this at least.  
  
Hermione was talking about Sirius but Harry wasn't listening. Cho had just walked in, leaning on the shoulder of Roger Davies, a Ravenclaw seventh year and captain of the Ravenclaw team. Harry felt as if something sharp had just poked him in the stomach, as he tore his eyes away from Cho, and concentrated on what Hermione was saying.  
  
"Anyway, I was wondering why he wanted you to come to my house this summer- I mean You Know Who didn't show up on Privet Drive, of course."  
  
"Hermione," Harry interrupted. "Can we talk about something else?" Hermione suddenly turned red and nodded.  
  
"All right," she said quietly, as Ron returned, trying to bring three great mugs of butterbeer to the table.  
  
"I'll help you," said a high voice. Both Harry and Ron whipped around (butterbeer splashed upon Madam Rosmerta's polished floors). It was Ginny.  
  
Ron looked incredibly annoyed, but Ginny just grinned and took one of the butterbeers, handing it to Harry.  
  
"How are you, Ginny?" asked Hermione. "Want a butterbeer?"  
  
"No, that's all right," said Ginny quietly.  
  
"Sit down at least, if you're going to stay here," said Ron, rolling his eyes. Ginny didn't look hurt-she just rolled her eyes, and pulled a chair up from an empty table, next to Harry.  
  
"Why aren't you hanging out with your boyfriend Colin?" asked Ron.  
  
"He isn't my boyfriend!" said Ginny ferociously. "You shut up!"  
  
"Whoops, I forgot, your boyfriend is Neville." This caused Ginny to look even more furious.  
  
"I don't like either of them," she said shrilly, casting a glance towards Harry. "And you know it, Ron."  
  
"Yeah, sorry Gin," Ron said, taking a gulp of his butterbeer.  
  
"So you're letting Natalie be Keeper?" Ginny said to Harry. "She's really nice, and I bet she's good."  
  
"Yeah, she is," said Harry. "You should've tried out."  
  
"No," said Ginny wrinkling her nose. "I'm really awful, and if I did get in I would have had to put up with Fred and George. I already see to much of them!"  
  
This made Harry laugh. "Ooh!" Ginny suddenly stood up, bumping into Harry. "Lina's calling, I've got to go. See you around all right?" She grinned at Harry and left, meeting up with a friend, and disappearing through the doors of the Three Broomsticks.  
  
"Harry." said Ron with a teasing grin on his face.  
  
"I wouldn't speak if I were you," said Harry feeling his face go red. He looked pointedly at Hermione.  
  
"Oh really, you're both being such idiots! We better get back to the castle soon, we don't want to miss the feast," Hermione said briskly, but Harry noticed she was slightly pink.  
  
Harry looked around the Three Broomsticks-Cho was still there, giggling with Roger. For some reason--maybe it was the butterbeer--Harry's stomach didn't hurt as much.  
  
When they entered the castle it was nearly time for the Halloween feast. Thousands of live bats fluttered over their heads, and Hagrid's enormous pumpkins were carved into grinning faces. Second and first years were already seated at their tables, watching as the students who had gone to Hogsmeade filed in. Harry took a seat next to Ron and Hermione, and stared at his empty plate, half starving to death.  
  
"Hello students, ghosts and teachers," Dumbledore stood up, his voice magically magnified. "I trust you have all had an exciting time at Hogsmeade filling up on frog spawn and cockroach clusters, or perhaps you've spent the afternoon in your common rooms-er-studying for your classes." A titter went through the Great Hall. Most of the teachers frowned. "Anyway I'd just like to wish you all a very happy Halloween and to-,"  
  
"OW!" Harry had just felt a sharp pain sear through his forehead. Then, as quickly as it had started, it was gone, leaving only a mild throbbing feeling. Harry frowned, scared out of his wits.  
  
Dumbledore was by his side almost instantly. "Are you all right Harry?"  
  
"Yeah, I think so..." He was very shaken.  
  
"Do you need--"  
  
But there was a large bang from the entrance hall. Dumbledore stood up quickly. "You'll be all right Harry," he muttered, and his wand out, he went into the Entrance Hall.  
  
When he returned he looked paler than Harry'd ever seen him before, his blue eyes shining with fury.  
  
"All students are to return to their common rooms!" Dumbledore shouted. "I trust prefects will be able to lead the way safely--AVOID THE ENTRANCE HALL, use the back stairs"  
  
Hermione didn't even smile at the mention of prefects. She was already gathering first years up.  
  
"What do you reckon that is?" Ron whispered.  
  
Harry was still rubbing his forehead. "I think it has something to do with You Know Who."  
  
Even Ron's freckles went pale.  
  
"It wouldn't hurt you know," Harry said quickly. "To just peek in the hall. I mean we can't just go back up to the common room and if it is--"  
  
Ron was wide eyed. "Yeah," he nodded. He and Harry moved away from the throng of Gryffindors, to the Entrance Hall where the teachers were looking just as scared as Harry felt. Professor McGonagoll was white and was waving her wand about. Tiny Professor Flitwick was wringing his hands as he looked up into the air....  
  
Someone--or something--had conjured the Dark Mark.  
  
"-it was just hovering there." Harry concluded after telling Hermione about the Dark Mark. He, Ron, and Hermione were sitting in the Gryffindor common room in a corner.  
  
Hermione looked shocked. "Are you sure ?" asked Hermione. "I mean, if someone did that, that's really bad." Crookshanks sprang into her lap with a purr, but Hermione didn't even take notic.  
  
"Dead sure," said Ron grimly. "Bet you anything it was Draco Malfoy. Decided to have some Halloween fun."  
  
"We thought Draco Malfoy opened the Chamber of Secrets, too," Hermione said doubtfully. "Do you think someone broke in?"  
  
"Didn't look like anyone was there," Ron said.  
  
Unlike, Harry, Ron and Hermione, the rest of Gryffindors had no idea why the feast had been cancelled.  
  
"Someone set off a load of dungbombs!" said Fred Weasley.  
  
"With you, everything's dungbombs," muttered Ginny.  
  
"Don't be a prat," said George. "They're not going to cancel a feast because of a few dungbombs, not even ours."  
  
"I know, I know!" shouted Dennis Creevey, a tiny second year. "The giant squid broke into the castle!"  
  
"Naw, I bet a Lethifold got in!" said a third year.  
  
"Honestly!" tutted Hermione. "I don't know about you, but it seems like they were making a big deal out of nothing. I'm going to bed."  
  
"You didn't see the Dark Mark Hermione. It was huge."  
  
"I've seen the Dark Mark before, at the Quidditch Cup," Hermione rolled her eyes. "Really I don't think there's anything to be worried about at all. Why don't you get some sleep, both of you?"  
  
Ron was looking at Hermione like she was crazy--"Hermione!" he hissed, "that means there must be a Death Eater in the castle!" Hermione looked uncomfortable. "I'm going to write to Sirius. Night," Harry said awkwardly as he watched Ron staring fixedly at Hermione. Maybe Sirius would know something about it. Harry went up to his dormitory so he could write with peace and quiet. He got out a piece of parchment and a quill and chose his words slowly. He didn't want to worry Sirius. Last time he told Sirius his scar hurt, Sirius had gone from a tropical island to Hogsmeade.  
  
Finally, at eleven thirty, Harry's letter was done. He reread it.  
  
Dear Sirius, How are you and Buckbeak? I hope you're having a good time, wherever you are. School is harder than ever since we're all preparing for the O.W.L's. You took them, right? Were they really hard? Fred and George, Ron's older brothers, keep going on about how horrible the O.W.L's are. But they lie a lot-have you ever met Fred and George? I think you'd like them.  
  
A weird thing happened tonight-when we'd gotten back to Hogsmeade to the Halloween feast my scar hurt, and then someone let the Dark Mark off in the Entrance Hall. It was probably just a joke that a Slytherin thought was funny but I thought I'd better write to you anyway.  
  
By the way, I've been made captain of the Quidditch team. We have a new keeper, she's a second year but she's very good. Her name is Natalie McDonald.  
  
Got to go, Harry  
  
There, thought Harry to himself. That ought to be enough for Sirius to know the details, but not so much that he would rush over to Hogwarts and demand to see the Dark Mark. He lay in bed with the curtains drawn around him. From the sounds of it the rest of Gryffindor tower was still anticipating what had made the teacher's so worried. Harry rolled over angrily. They didn't have Voldemort to worry about--they had nothing, just the simplicity of knowing nothing, of feeling nothing, being swarthed in a cloak protecting them from the truth.  
  
  
  
The events of Halloween night were quickly forgotten the next week, fading away in the much awaited furor of the first Quidditch match of the year, Gryffindor against Slytherin. Harry had scheduled four Quidditch practices a week in preparation, giving the Weasley twins reason to complain that Harry was turning into Oliver Wood. Harry didn't care though. He'd just found out Draco Malfoy had been appointed the Slytherin Captain. Harry wondered to himself what Lucius Malfoy had bought the Slytherin team this time.  
  
The night before the Quidditch match Harry couldn't sleep. He polished his top of the line Firebolt so many times that Ron complained it was blinding his eyes. The only two times Harry had played Malfoy, Harry had definitely come off better. But this time . what if Harry screwed up and called the wrong moves? It made him sick, thinking of a Slytherin victory, Malfoy's face smirking at him. Harry sank into a sleep full of dreams about laughing Slytherins and broken broomsticks.  
  
The next morning Natalie came up to Harry. "I don't think I'll be able to do it," she squeaked nervously. "What if I'm bad? What if I let Slytherin score?"  
  
Her face looked as horrible as Harry felt. "It's okay," Harry said, trying to act as if the Quidditch match was just a card game.  
  
The Gryffindor team barely ate breakfast that morning, except for Fred and George who seemed to take out stress by acting more exuberant than ever. When it was finally time to get changed and go out onto the field, Harry felt as though Gryffindor had already lost the match.  
  
"All right," breathed Harry, as the team sat around him. It felt very weird to be the one talking, instead of the one being talked to. "We've just got to play our hardest and everything will be all right. You remember that move Natalie?"  
  
Natalie nodded grimly. "Double eight loop."  
  
"That'll be good since you're relying on speed, not size. And Fred, George, don't try to foul us up, OK?"  
  
Fred put on a façade of innocence, "Us? Fouls? Never!"  
  
"If you feel the urge to punch Malfoy in the face just try to wait until after the game."  
  
Harry looked at his fellow team members. He felt his breakfast churning in his stomach. "Right then, let's go."  
  
And, led by Harry, the Gryffindor team walked out onto the field. The Slytherins were already out there. Harry noticed that their Nimbus 2001's had been replaced by the new model, Nimbus 3000. Hary clenched his own Firebolt in his hands and took a deep breath.  
  
"Malfoy, Potter, shake hands," Madam Hooch said briskly. Harry looked Malfoy in the eye, and held out a stiff hand. Malfoy shook it reluctantly, with a sneer on his face, and let go as soon as he could.  
  
"Mount your brooms.on my whistle.three-two-one!"  
  
Harry kicked off into the air feeling the wind, sweeping through his hair. His confidence now felt restored as he scanned the area looking for the snitch. He could hear Lee Jordan, commentating.  
  
"Quaffle taken immediately by Alicia Spinnet of Gryffindor-nice reverse pass to Bell of Gryffindor, heading toward the goal.come on Katie.YES! Gryffindor scores!" Katie grinned and did a loop in the air. Harry took his attention away from the scoring areas and began to search for the Snitch. He had to get it before Malfoy. Harry swooped down, near the Gryffindor goal posts.  
  
"All right Natalie?" he called to a very pale looking Natalie.  
  
"Oh....yes," she called back. She didn't look all right-she looked as though she might throw up at any moment. Harry could see Malfoy nearer to the ground searching for the Snitch. The new Slytherin brooms were obviously good--much better than Fred and George's, but still no match for a Firebolt. Harry turned his attention back to the commentary.  
  
"-Gryffindor in possession---Spinnet heading toward the-YOU CHEATING BASTARDS---,"  
  
Bole and Derrick, the two enormous Slytherin beaters had zoomed at Alicia; Bole knocking her on the head, Derrick in the stomach. With an "oof" Alicia dropped the Quaffle, picked up quickly by Warrington, a Slytherin chaser.  
  
A whistle blast through the stadium. "You are not to hit any player with anything but the Bludger-and both of you at once! These are disgusting tactics! Penalty shot to Gryffindor!"  
  
Katie was able to tuck the Quaffle in easily making the score twenty to zero and still no signs of the Snitch. Harry zoomed up, and swerved around the goal posts. He noticed that Natalie looked slightly sick.  
  
"What's wrong Potter?" Malfoy called out from below him. "Why can't you find the Snitch? Or is your scar hurting again?"  
  
Harry resisted the temptation to punch Malfoy himself and instead forced his Firebolt up higher, scanning the grounds for the faintest trace of the Snitch.  
  
"Gryffindor still in possession," Harry heard Lee saying. "Looks like the Slytherin's new brooms aren't making up for their lack of talent!"  
  
"Jordan!" Harry heard McGonagoll say.  
  
"Well it's true! Oh fine! Anyway-Bell of Gryffindor makes a neat pass to Spinnet, nice use of Woollongong Shimmy-ooh! Attempt at Porskoff Ploy- Hunter intercepts the Quaffle-new team member, fourth year, I'm surprised he even knows what a Quaffle is--thick as two planks, he is."  
  
"Jordan, if you can't commentate in an unbias manner-," "I was just adding my opinion! Hunter zooming up the field, oh, no....passes to Montague-YES! I can't believe she did it! McDonald catches the Quaffle-," Two hundred Gryffindor's burst into ear splitting roars. Harry hardly had anytime to feel happy for Natalie. He had just spotted a glimmer of gold sparkling near the bottom of the Gryffindor goal posts.....  
  
Harry sped down quickly, but Malfoy had spotted Harry and was closing in. The two were hurtling towards the ground-head to head-Harry was getting closer-he felt his hands grasp around the fluttering Snitch. He pulled out of the dive just in time to see Malfoy hitting the ground. If anything could put a seal on the Gryffindor victory it was this. Harry held the Snitch up as he did a lap around the field-he could hear Natalie shouting, "You did it! You did it!" and Fred and George laughing as Dumbledore conjured a stretcher for Malfoy. Finally Harry sank to the ground, feeling as though he'd never worried about the match at all.  
  
"170 to 0!" Ron shouted as he came charging towards Harry. "You were brilliant!"  
  
"You got that move from Viktor, didn't you?" Hermione said to Harry. "But I really saw the Snitch. It's not my fault Malfoy was stupid enough to crash."  
  
Ron laughed, and to Harry's surprise, so did Hermione.  
  
"I can't believe it," Harry heard Natalie breathing by his side. "I blocked the Quaffle. Did you see me Harry?" she looked up at him from under her long bangs.  
  
"You were great Natalie. Wood couldn't have even done that." Natalie grinned.  
  
"Hey, Harry!" Harry heard one of the Weasley twins shout. "Party in Gryffindor tower-we've got two reasons to celebrate-we won and Malfoy's out cold!"  
  
Harry had attended quite a few post-Quidditch parties, but hardly any were as loud nor raucous as this one. Maybe it had something to do with Malfoy being unconscious or maybe it had something to do with the fact that Slytherin didn't score one single point. Either way people kept coming up to all the Gryffindor players and congratulating them, particularly Fred and George who had, for the first time, not committed a single foul.  
  
Natalie for once, seemed to be the center of attention.  
  
"Wood never blocked every single Quaffle except for that time against Hufflepuff...and that shouldn't really count!" a sixth year said excitedly to Natalie, as she bit into a Pumpkin Pasty (courtesy of Fred and George who'd snuck off to the kitchens).  
  
"Well I only had one chance,' said Natalie modestly.  
  
Harry was very glad about this. Natalie looked as though she needed some attention now and then.  
  
The Gryffindors must've partied for ages. Dean, who was a good artist, had drawn several posters, mostly with Gryffindor lions, or broomsticks, but a good few with Malfoy twitching on the ground. Finally, when Hermione gasped that it was three in the morning.  
  
"It's far too late!" she said. "Come on, you need your sleep."  
  
Harry who'd been feeling a bit sleepy anyway, did not argue. "Night Hermione," he yawned, as he walked up the stairs to his dorm room, followed closely by Ron.  
  
"Good job Harry," said Ron, half awake. "That'll be up on the top favorite moments of my lives-Malfoy and the Wronski Feint."  
  
Winter was setting in at Hogwarts. Hagrid could be seen putting scarves and ear muffs on his plants in his gardens, and the dungeons were freezing. One cold, November morning, the first frost set in, and Madam Pomfrey, the Herbology professor began fretting over her Ubblechubs.  
  
Harry, Ron, and Hermione were seated at the Gryffindor table eating breakfast when the usual owls soared in. Harry spotted Hedwig easily through the mass of brown. Sirius must've written back. Swooping down onto the table, Harry opened the letter Hedwig had given him and read in an undertone.  
  
Dear Harry,  
  
If someone's set off the Dark Mark, for fun or not, this is very serious. I need you to be very careful. If someone in the castle is setting off the Dark Mark that must mean that they had connections with Voldemort. My first guess would be Snape but as he's away.I don't know. I'm staying in Hogsmeade now-don't worry, the Ministry doesn't care much about me anymore- they probably think I'm dead-so security is lax. I can't say everything I would like to in this letter in case it is intercepted, but there are definitely things you'll need to know. Christmas Day, I need you to be in Dumbledore's office at 8 o'clock. The password's Fizzing Whizbee's-bring the invisibility cloak  
  
Sirius  
  
"He's come back to Hogsmeade!" cried Harry. "Why did I write to him?"  
  
Hermione looked worried. "I hope he's all right."  
  
Harry glared into his waffles, and gave a piece of bacon to Hedwig. "This is so stupid! I should've known he'd do this! Look what he did when my scar twinged a bit!"  
  
"But-but something did happen," Ron said. "Why do you reckon you've got to be in Dumbledore's office?"  
  
"Dunno," said Harry glumly. "All I know is that I have a complete idiot for a godfather."  
  
Classes were getting harder than ever. It was not uncommon to see Professor McGonagoll snapping in class, or for tiny Professor Flitwick to be looking thoroughly stressed. The only teacher no one got much trouble from, was Hagrid, who seemed preoccupied with something else. This would've come as an enormous relief to the Care of Magical Creatures class, had not they been bored to death reading books about Jarveys who had to be some of the most obnoxious creatures ever. Most teachers were looking incredibly stressed...well that is except for Professor Gingle who had been walking around, acting just as eccentric as ever.  
  
"Right then, right then!" he said during one class. "We'll be starting Shield Charms today!"  
  
"Shield Charms?" Seamus Finnigan called loudly. "Flitwick's supposed to teach us that!"  
  
"Speak a little louder, I didn't hear you the first time," said Gingle peevishly.  
  
Seamus seemed to have missed the sarcasm in Gingle's voice. "The Shield Charm is a Charm. You don't teach Charms, Flitwick does."  
  
"Oh really? Well since you're so enthusiastic to tell me what I'm supposed to teach, you can come up to the head of the class and help me demonstrate Shield Charms!" Gingle said, grinning at Seamus from behind his enormous green spectacles.  
  
"I--I didn't mean--" Seamus spluttered.  
  
"Right then!" said Gingle, smiling even broader at a miserable looking Seamus. "Up we get get get!" Seamus sighed resignedly and walked to the front of the class. Gingle raised his wand.  
  
"Hey!" Seamus didn't have time to say anything else. A large bang went off, and then another and another. Gingle was shouting words, and Seamus was enveloped in a cloud of thick smoke. Then the bangs stopped, Gingle lowered his wand, and the smoke died away, revealing Seamus, who appeared to have angry red boils all over his face, green snakes replacing his sandy hair, and was dancing a sort of jig.  
  
"This," Gingle nodded at Seamus. "Is what happens when you don't know the Shield Charm. Now let's say Seamus somehow learned to master a Shield Charm and I tried to do Avada Kedavra on him," Seamus gave a whimper, as he danced in place. "Can anyone tell me if his charm would work?"  
  
Hermione's hand shot into the air. She looked very nervous, and was looking at Seamus worriedly. "No, because the Shield Charm only protects you from minor hexes!"  
  
Seamus gave an indignant grunt his feet still dancing. Obviously he didn't think any of his afflictions were minor.  
  
"Good!" Professor Gingle looked delighted. "Take five points, points, points. Finnigan, go to the hospital wing."  
  
And Seamus, still dancing, began to trot out the door.  
  
"I can't believe he did that!" Hermione said as the class let out. "I mean, he can't curse a student, that's just wrong!"  
  
"He can!" said Ron. "He's Gingle. And Moody put as all under the Imperius Curse."  
  
"That was wrong too! And Moody was all....evil, after all. And for your information, Ron, Moody didn't put me under the curse!"  
  
"And you were hopping mad about it!" Ron said.  
  
"I don't know about you, but I'm glad I wasn't put under a dangerous curse by a dark wizard," Hermione said airily.  
  
Ron had nothing to say to that.  
  
"What've we got next?" asked Harry breaking the silence. He tried to hide his happiness--it was much more normal when Hermione and Ron fought than when they giggled.  
  
Professor Fidel appeared in class as nervous as ever. Harry had to admit that Potions had definitely taken a turn for the better now that Snape had left. But the Love Potions were still immensely complicated. They'd been trying them out on rats, instead of people, and the only pair of rats that seemed to have any amorous feelings at all, were the ones who were fed Hermione's potion. Harry's rats seemed to just lie around, while Neville's attacked eachother so much, he had to be given a new pair.  
  
"Remember!" Professor Fidel said, as she watched the fifth years stirring their potions. "The most important part of a love potion is that you need a bit of whoever is administering the potion. So take a bit of hair from one of your rats and add it in."  
  
Harry reluctantly plucked another hair from one of his rats. Instantly the potion turned a bottle green color.  
  
"Now," said Professor Fidel, still walking around the class. "You'll have to give the potion to one of the rats and--"  
  
"Excuse me?"  
  
Draco Malfoy's voice echoed through the dank dungeon.  
  
"Er--yes?" Fidel looked very nervous.  
  
"Oh, I just couldn't hear what you were saying. Very thick accent."  
  
"Oh."  
  
"Maybe not all Austrailians are like you," Malfoy had the nerve to go on. "After all, you are a Mudblood aren't you. Maybe you're just weird."  
  
The Gryffindors gasped, but several Slytherins were chuckling. Professor Fidel went very red and said, "That will be five points from Slytherin."  
  
Malfoy looked thoroughly pleased with himself, as he watched Professor Fidel return to her own cauldron where she was stirring a sample love potion, her head down. Harry had the unpleasant feeling that she was crying- -tears were splashing into her potion in great dollops.  
  
"Really," Harry heard Malfoy mutter, "Why doesn't she go back to the Muggles where she came from?"  
  
Harry clenched his teeth, trying not to say anything, as he tried to thicken his potion.  
  
"Oh, Harry!" Hermione said, looking into his cauldron. "Your potion's supposed to be orange!"  
  
Harry looked down to see that his own potion was a vivid green.  
  
"Now," Fidel said at the end of class, as she poured her own potion into a glass and sat it on her desk. "Love Potions remember are banned at Hogwarts and are practiced in the wizarding world with great caution. Very few wizards would stoop to the level of using a serious, life altering Love Potion..."  
  
But Harry wasn't listening. He noticed Malfoy, Crabbe and Goyle chuckling-- they had smuggled several bottles of pumpkin juice in, and were drinking them, laughing to themselves.  
  
"--so I hope that you've learned a good deal during the time that I was with you," finished Professor Fidel softly. "Er--I'll go in the back and clean up a bit. You can all have some freetime before the bell rings."  
  
Hermione immediately began cleaning out her cauldron with a Scouring Charm, but Ron and Harry were watching Malfoy out of the corner of their eye. He, Crabbe, and Goyle, were lingering by Professor Fidel's desk, speaking darkly.  
  
"Thank goodness she's leaving soon. You know, I wrote to father about this-- teacher--I mean really she's a Mudblood," Malfoy took a swig of his pumpkin juice.  
  
Crabbe and Goyle nodded appreciatively. "I can't wait until Professor Snape comes back. Finally we'll learn something proper for a change." He took another drink. "I--I--I..."  
  
But Malfoy had stopped talking and was looking at Professor Fidel with quite a hazy look on his face. Harry furrowed his brow--but Hermione looked incredibly giddy.  
  
"Look!" she giggled. She pointed openly to Professor Fidel's desk--suddenly Harry felt as if he might just giggle too. Instead of taking a swig of pumpkin juice, Malfoy had taken a gulp of Professor Fidel's love potion, and was now wandering towards the back of the classroom.  
  
"Professor Fidel," he said dreamily. "Can I help you?"  
  
This was apparently too much for Hermione, she burst out into loud giggles that echoed through the dungeon. Crabbe and Goyle were looking bemused.  
  
"Wonder how long this lasts," Ron muttered. "I can't wait to get a camera!"  
  
It took a week of doe eyed glances, doodled hearts before Malfoy's potion wore off. For once Potions was peaceful. Crabbe and Goyle were too stupid to realize that Malfoy was under a love potion, and Pansy Parkinson, a pug faced Slytherin fifth year, looked so hurt, that she never had anything to say but instead walked by Malfoy, slightly miffed with her nose in the air.  
  
It was very pleasant, and also quite amusing, to watch Malfoy drooling over the teacher he had once caused so much trouble for. But finally, as the week came to an end, the love potion began to wear off.  
  
"Shame though," Ron said as he, Harry, and Hermione emerged from the dungeons. "Was really funny to watch that git making eyes at Fidel."  
  
"And I got to learn a lot without Malfoy butting in," Hermione said in a satisfied voice.  
  
Malfoy came out of the dungeons, looking slightly confused, and not as smitten by Professor Fidel. Behind him, Pansy Parkinson, and her group of Slytherin girls were muttering darkly.  
  
"I can't believe it!" Harry heard Pansy shriek as she passed them by. "I always thought that Draco would be mine! Not that ugly Muggle born!"  
  
Hermione burst out into a fit of giggles and not until they reached the Great Hall for lunch did they subdue.  
  
"What class we've got next Er-My-Knee?" asked Ron through a mouthful of candied yams.  
  
Hermione bent down to get her bookbag, and emerged with a slightly crinkled piece of parchment. "Well I've got Double Arithmancy. That means you'll be having Double Divination, doesn't it?"  
  
Ron groaned, swallowing his yams. "Just great, sitting in a class for an hour and a half with that old bat!"  
  
"She'll be telling me I'll die in a weeks time," Harry said. But he was not as upset as he acted. It was the last day of school before Christmas holidays. As always, Harry had written down his name to stay, and Ron and Hermione, more out of habit than anything, put their names down to, as well as Fred, George, and Ginny. Harry suspected that the Weasley's might've been staying on Mrs. Weasley's orders, but he was grateful for it. He didn't fancy staying alone in the Gryffindor common room all through the holidays.  
  
"Oh I've got to go!" Hermione said suddenly. "I can't believe I left my Arithmancy book up in the common room, I really hope I won't be late." She stood up, brushing crumbs off of her robes. "Well, see you Harry, Ron!" and she disappeared into the hall.  
  
"We better get a head start," Harry said.  
  
"Hmm?" asked Ron. His eyes were following Hermione.  
  
"To Divination," Harry said impatiently. "It's miles away."  
  
"Oh yeah," Ron said, shaking his head. "Right then, let's go."  
  
  
  
Professor Trelawney was in the classroom, speaking to Lavender and Parvati, who were looking very interested.  
  
"You see, my dears," Harry heard Professor Trelawney saying. "In order to really embrace your Inner Eye you must uncloud the worries that drift through your mind. That is why I stay up here, in my solitary class and office, so I may get better perception of the Fates that Intervene."  
  
"What she needs is better perception of reality," muttered Ron. Harry chortled.  
  
"The Fates that Intervene say that Professor Trelawney is a ugly, old git," Harry whispered.  
  
"Today, we'll be starting oracle bones!" Professor Trelawney said sharply. Perhaps she'd heard Ron and Harry. "An ancient art of Divination from the East. Oracle bones are very rare, and are difficult to decode. I do not expect many of you to get through this easily. Oracle bones, however, when read correctly can tell of many things. Just yesterday I put one in the fire and when it emerged it warned me of something evil. Something coming closer to Hogwarts--death." Professor Trelawney stared at Harry. "Some of you would do well to heed my warnings instead of tempting fate," she added delicately.  
  
Harry put his chin on the table and raised his eybrows at Professor Trelawney, looking incredibly bored.  
  
"So, that makes it, what, the millionth time she's predicted my death?" Harry said, as they left the steamy classroom an hour and a half later.  
  
"Ssh Harry!" Ron said. "You don't want to tempt the fates!"  
  
"Yeah, they might send a raging manticore at me." "Or a deranged flobberworm."  
  
They went down to the Great Hall--Hermione didn't seem to be there, so Harry and Ron swooped past the Arithmancy classroom to see if she was late talking to Professor Vector.  
  
"Where do you reckon she is?' Ron asked Harry.  
  
"Dunno," Harry said. "Think we should find her?"  
  
Ron nodded--they checked out all of Hermione's usual haunts--the Transfiguration classroom, the library. Harry even peeked in Moaning Myrtle's, out of orders, girl's bathroom. To his great relief neither Hermione--nor Moaning Myrtle--were in there.  
  
"We should just go down to dinner," Ron finally said. "She's probably arguing with some teacher about the magical theory or something."  
  
Harry, who's stomach was rumbling, agreed, and they went back to the Great Hall where they gulped down their dinner, and hurried back to the common room.  
  
They found Hermione there, curled up on the couch, reading to herself.  
  
"Hermione, where were you?" Ron said, sitting on the couch next to Hermione.  
  
"I was in the Owlery. I had to pick up the Daily Prophet, the owl didn't come at breakfast this morning!"  
  
"Rita Skeeter been keeping her promise?" asked Harry as he sat down next to Ron.  
  
"Actually she has. Must be scared I'll tell someone."  
  
"So what's been going on in the w-w-orrrld?" Ron asked, stifling an enormous yawn.  
  
"Nothing much. There's some "human interest" article on Gringotts goblins, and some thing about a witch in Yorkshire who stood on her head for 3 days straight. Really, what rubbish."  
  
"Nothing 'bout You-Know-Who?" Ron said, lowering his voice.  
  
"No. Isn't that odd? You reckon Fudge is trying to hush it up? He didn't let the paper get hold of Cedric's death."  
  
"That doesn't make sense. You said the murder of that other wizard was all over the papers."  
  
"I don't know Harry." Hermione massaged her temples. "You're right it doesn't make sense at all."  
  
"You know probably some mad old reporter got wind of that killing and it slipped past the Ministry. And Harry, your scar hasn't been hurting, has it?"  
  
"No," Harry said slowly.  
  
"So that means no one's, well, died."  
  
"But Harry's scar didn't hurt when that other wizard died!" Hermione protested. "What if it's not working properly or something?"  
  
"Great," Harry said dully. "I'll bring it to Darvish and Bangs to get fixed up. You reckon then it'll start going off?"  
  
"Oh Harry, I didn't mean it that way."  
  
"Hermione, it's the night before Christmas Eve. All I want is a normal holiday. I'm going to bed."  
  
That night in bed, Harry stared up at his canopy. He was trying very hard not to think about his scar--what if it was, well, broken? Voldemort could touch Harry; did that mean that Harry couldn't sense Voldemort anymore? Harry rolled over in his bed, as he heard Ron enter the dormitory. The only other person there was Neville, his snores coming from the other canopy.  
  
The next morning everyone had gone home for the Christmas holidays. When Harry awoke at ten in the morning the only person in the common room was Hermione. "Morning Harry, Ron up yet?"  
  
"Nope," said Harry. "Just you and me."  
  
"Well we ought to go downstairs and have some breakfast--it's late; the house elves will probably be cleaning up soon."  
  
"Whatever happened to S.P.E.W?" Harry asked. S.P.E.W was an organization Hermione had begun the previous year, to help free house elves. Apparently Hermione had gone off it a bit.  
  
"Oh, that," Hermione said with a wave of her hand. "I don't have enough time, and house elves are treated really well, at least at Hogwarts." Hermione furrowed her brow. "But people like Mr. Crouch and that Malfoy--"  
  
"Talking bout spew again, Hermione?" said a sleepy voice from behind them. It was Ron, in his too short, paisley pajamas.  
  
"It's not spew!" Hermione said shrilly. "And I was just saying how I gave it up."  
  
"Good," said Ron. "Glad to see you've got some sense."  
  
That afternoon they visited Hagrid in his hut. Only their deep loyalty towards Hagrid could have sent Harry, Ron, and Hermione tramping through the two feet deep snow, and when they entered Hagrid's house there was no fire, or Hagrid to greet them. Only a barking Fang, Hagrid's boarhound, and a mess of letters on Hagrid table were there.  
  
"Where do you reckon Hagrid is?" Harry said looking around.  
  
"He must be out," Hermione nodded towards the door, where Hagrid's moleskin coat usually hung. "Do you think we ought to wait until he gets back?"  
  
Ron shrugged. "Might as well." He sat upon Hagrid's enormous bed, but Harry was eyeing the letters on the table. They looked the same as the ones he had seen the last time he had visited Hagrid.  
  
"What do you reckon those are?" he asked Hermione. "Since when has Hagrid been writing letters?"  
  
"Maybe it's to Madam Maxime. She's back in France now you know," Hermione said matter-of-factly.  
  
"That many?"  
  
"Well..." Hermione's interest was now captured.  
  
"Should we have a look?" asked Ron, getting off the bed with great difficulty.  
  
"Just a peek won't hurt--oh no, we can't!" Hermione said, looking very conflicted. "Let's just wait for Hagrid."  
  
"Come on Hermione, just a little glimpse won't hurt," Harry wheedled.  
  
"Well--I don't know--"  
  
But Ron had already picked up the envelope and was reading off the address.  
  
"The Council of Gumplump, Wulfrill Mountains, Iceland...Iceland, blimey!" Ron was looking very pale.  
  
"What about Iceland?" Harry asked anxiously.  
  
Both Hermione and Ron were shaking their heads. "Harry, that's where all the giants ran off to. When they began getting killed off by Aurors, after You Know Who died, they all escaped to Iceland."  
  
"And Gumplump and Wulfrill sound really familiar," Hermione said. "I'm almost sure I read all about it in The Rise and Fall of the Dark Arts."  
  
"The Council of Gumplump? You reckon they're trying to get back to You Know Who?" Ron asked anxiously.  
  
Harry shook his head. "I think...at the end of last term, Hagrid told me he had business to do with Madame Maxime, you remember her, the headmistress from Beauxbatons. And Dumbledore was talking about sending envoys to the giants...extending a hand of friendship."  
  
"You mean...?" Hermione asked looking excited.  
  
"I'm almost positive! Hagrid's trying to get the giants to join our side, that's what he's been so busy about. And I'd bet my broomstick that this summer Hagrid was doing some business in Iceland!"  
  
"Well it makes sense, doesn't it?" Ron asked, sitting down. "But blimey, giants!"  
  
Hermione sat down next to Ron frowning. "I just hope Hagrid doesn't get in a fight with the giants...they can be really dangerous."  
  
Ron looked up. "I just hope Hagrid doesn't bring the giants to Hogwarts!"  
  
  
  
The Great Hall was in a spectacular array, with twelve enormous Christmas trees, and real live fairies enchanted for decorations fluttering around. The normal tables had been magically pushed against the walls and just one long table spread across the hall.  
  
Nearly all of the teachers were there already. Harry noticed, puzzledly that Professor Snape, wasn't seated yet. Professor Fidel had left several days ago explaining that Snape would return for Christmas.  
  
"Merry Christmas, everyone," Dumbledore said smiling from behind his spectacles. Everyone seemed to apply only to Harry, Hermione, the Weasleys and a glowering Slytherin seventh year.  
  
Suddenly the doors to the hall banged open. Everyone looked up with great surprise, to see Snape, livid with anger, glaring upon them.  
  
"Someone," he said, with his eyes steady on Harry, "has been in my office, and there was an explosion, Dumbledore. Filch, I want you to take care of it. I'll personally see to it that whoever did this is expelled."  
  
Argus Filch, the caretaker, rose, dusting off his moldy tailcoat and left the room looking as though his birthday had come early, no doubt, by the prospect of expelling a student. Fred and George exchanged delighted looks.  
  
"Well," said Dumbledore. He looked lost for words, "Dig in."  
  
A feast appeared before their eyes; an enormous turkey, chestnuts, cranberry sauce, and every sort of sweet Harry could imagine.  
  
"FGAE's," Fred whispered to Harry. "We put tons of them in Snape's office as a welcome back present!"  
  
Harry nodded politely. He could see Ginny sitting next to Hermione further to the end. She was laughing.  
  
"Really it's our masterpiece, Harry. Great combination of dungbombs, to give maximum stench and Filibuster Fireworks..."  
  
Her hair too, was really a very pretty shade of red.  
  
"But of course improved," Fred added. "And with special ingredients so the smell won't wear away for months."  
  
And her brown eyes...they felt so warm.  
  
"Unless you by FGAE remover, only 15 sickles, a real bargain, which will get rid of the smell instantly. Of course we'll be regulating sales of FGAE remover. Don't want it falling into the wrong hands, ruining all the fun."  
  
Harry shook himself. This was Ginny, Ron's little sister. Why did she seem so different? Harry felt a very funny feeling in his stomach, only mildly aware that Fred and George were still talking.  
  
"Harry?" Harry looked up to see Ginny peering down the table at him. He felt as if he'd swallowed a Filibuster Firework.  
  
"Er, yeah?" Harry felt his face going red.  
  
"Can you pass the potatoes?"  
  
"Oh, yeah, ok." Feeling like a complete prat, Harry handed Ginny the large dish.  
  
"Thank you."  
  
"Yeah."  
  
It was Ginny, Harry told himself. He couldn't like her, he couldn't. She was Ginny.  
  
  
  
That afternoon they had a snowball fight, though Ginny and Hermione stood at the sides talking to eachother and throwing Harry and Ron superior looks.  
  
It's just Ginny, Harry reminded himself several times.  
  
When they came back in the common room they roasted marshmallows. When it got close to eight Harry went up to get his invisibility cloak and Marauder's Map.  
  
Ron muttered, "Meeting Sirius tonight? Should we come?"  
  
"Yeah, s'pose so."  
  
Hermione looked nervous. "I wonder why he wants us to meet in Dumbledore's office though."  
  
"Dunno, maybe he thinks it's safe," Ron said, his eyebrows raised.  
  
"Safer than Hogsmeade, I guess," Harry was saying before Hermione jabbed him in the ribs. He looked around to see that Ginny was behind them in her blue nightgown.  
  
"Going to bed now Ginny?" Harry asked in a high voice.  
  
"Yes, I was just looking for Fred and George. I think they put some FGAE's in my bedroom." Ginny was frowing.  
  
Ron smiled and nodded at her. "They're already in bed. Or at least experimenting in their dorm."  
  
"Don't worry about the FGAE's, Ginny," Hermione said. "Fred told me he used them all up on Snape's office. Why don't you go back to bed?"  
  
"Yeah," Harry added helpfully, feeling slightly pink.  
  
"I've got a great idea!" Ron said fervently. "Why don't we all go to bed?"  
  
Ginny looked at Ron suspiciously. "All right then," she began walking up the stairs, looking over her shoulder at Ron who was nodding her off supportively. When she was finally gone Ron said, "What a pain, come on let's go."  
  
Harry didn't argue, though he felt a bit guilty. He, Ron and Hermione got under the invisibility cloak. Though it was a tight squeeze they were able to fit under it, as they climbed through the portrait hole and began walking towards the stone gargoyle that guarded Dumbledore's office.  
  
They passed the Ravenclaw ghost, the Grey Lady, and Filch who was walking with his cat, Mrs. Norris, holding up a burnt bit of plastic that was presumably a FGAE saying, "We've got them now!"  
  
When they finally got to the stone gargoyle, however, Harry heard footsteps from around the corner. He took out the Marauder's Map and to his surprise he saw a tiny dot coming towards the stone gargoyle. It was marked, Remus Lupin.  
  
  
  
Lupin looked pale and nervous in the candlelit corridor. Harry remembered the last full moon had been just days ago.  
  
He watched as Lupin went up to the stone gargoyle, and said, "Fizzing Whizbees!" The gargoyle leapt to life, revealing a moving, winding staircase. Harry, feeling amazed and shocked, followed Lupin up, hidden in the Invisibility Cloak with Ron and Hermione. A million questions were exploding in Harry's head, but he could only exchange looks with an invisible Ron and Hermione.  
  
They entered Dumbledore's office only...it looked nothing like the office Harry used to know. The whirring silver contraptions were still there, as well as Fawkes, Dumbledore's phoenix. But his desk was cleared out and instead in the middle was an enormous circular table. Already sitting at the table, Harry noticed, was Dumbledore looking far different than he had at dinner. He was pale and serious. Next to him was a bizarre looking wizard who could have rivaled Professor Gingle. And there was Snape, brooding on the other side of the table--the FGAE's apparently still on his mind. Also there was Alastor Moody, whom Harry had never really met who was looking incredibly wary, probably still shocked from his last attack. Moody turned his magical eye to Harry, who for a moment thought he would tell someone. Harry shook his head frantically and pleadingly held a finger to his lip. He thought, but wasn't sure, that Moody did the slightest of winks. And next to him was Mr. Weasley.  
  
"That's my dad!" Ron hissed into Harry's ear.  
  
"Ouch!" Hermione had just jabbed him in the ribs."No talking!" she said between pursed lips.  
  
Harry kept looking around the room. What was this supposed to be? And then, to his right, was...it couldn't be...? The Dursley's had always left Harry with the old neighbor Mrs. Figg when they went places. And this woman certainly looked like Mrs. Figg, Harry could even smell cats from across the room. What was she doing here? Harry had been sure she was a Muggle. She looked the same as ever except she was wearing a rose colored cloak. Harry would have to ask Sirius about that.  
  
Harry, Ron and Hermione edged into a corner of the room, where it was likely they wouldn't be run into. Fawkes was in his cage next to them, looking small and featherless. He must have just had a burning day. Lupin sat down on the other side of Dumbledore, said something quietly, and nodded toward Mrs. Figg, who smiled back.  
  
The door opened once again, revealing Harry's godfather. Sirius looked much better than he ever had. His face was shaven and he had much more color. He was even smiling, though his eyes were haunted. Harry yearned to reach out and say hello but something told him now wasn't the time. Everyone was looking very somber. Why did Sirius want him here? Everyone was looking around as though expecting someone else. The room was completely silent.  
  
The door swung open again, revealing Hagrid in his moleskin coat, looking strangely out of place in Dumbledore's office. Dumbledore conjured a huge chair, that Hagrid accepted.  
  
"Hello everyone, and merry, merry Christmas. Unfortunately we are all here on grave business. As all of you know Voldemort has risen again."  
  
Harry saw half of the wizards wince at the name.  
  
"We must stop him. So I have called together the old group once again. We also have with us Rubeus Hagrid, who has been visiting with the giants, and Mr. Arnold Weasley who's been trying very hard to protect Muggles during these times."  
  
Mr. Weasley's ears went red, not unlike Ron's when he was embarrassed.  
  
"The times ahead are hard," Dumbledore continued. "The Daily Prophet has not breathed a word about Voldemort, except for the attack on Didibus Rexby.. And writers who we thought would be outspoken seem to have given up their quills,"  
  
At this Hermione swelled with pride.  
  
"Only Rexby was reported."  
  
"But why, Dumbledore?" Mrs. Figg asked.  
  
Dumbledore sighed. "It is my opinion, Arabella, that Voldemort is putting all his sources on getting something that will make him even more powerful."  
  
At this Snape cleared his throat. "Excuse me Dumbledore," Harry forgot how much he hated Snape's oily tone of voice.  
  
"I was working undercover for the last six months. I told Voldemort that I was returning to Hogwarts only to pass information to him. I understand well that Voldemort safely guards his secrets, even among his supporters but I know that Voldemort is trying to...to take the one we spoke about earlier."  
  
Dumbledore nodded, "Yes the council spoke about this before, we suspected he might want it, as it is a very powerful weapon."  
  
Snape continued, "Also the death of Didbus Rexby was carefully planned out, but why I do not know. Voldemort did not trust me completely to tell me everything." Dumbledore nodded once again.  
  
"So how can we protect it?" the bizarre looking wizard spoke up.  
  
"It is quite simple Mundungus. I believe that as long as we keep our eyes open, we'll be able to catch Voldemort if he attempts to take it." Dumbledore looked right at Harry. "And I think he'll be able to protect himself."  
  
Harry felt as if his stomach had frozen. "Now, Arthur, are you increasing Muggle security?"  
  
"Yes, I've got old Perkins in my department working things out." Suddenly Mrs. Figg gave a shrill girl like giggle. Dumbledore ignored Mrs. Figg.  
  
"We'll need to meet again, increase security, but as Voldemort isn't acting now it doesn't seem there's not much to do. Now it's Christmas, why don't you all return to your families?"  
  
There was a general murmur of agreement, and people began to stand up, walking away--several of them apparated, disappearing with a small pop. Sirius however remained seated."Bye Moony," he muttered as Lupin passed him. However Sirius gave Snape a dirty look as he walked by his chair. When the last person was finally out Dumbledore spoke quietly."You can show yourselves."  
  
  
  
Feeling weak in the knees, Harry removed the invisibility cloak. Hermione was looking petrified, as if a million points would be taken from Gryffindor.  
  
"It's my fault Dumbledore, I wanted him here," Sirius said.  
  
"It's all right, Sirius," Dumbledore spoke evenly. "Curiosity never hurt anyone, and it's best that people know the seriousness of Voldemort. However there are some things that shouldn't trouble these children. I think I'm going to go to bed, it's getting really very late, and I suggest that you Ms. Granger and Mr. Weasley do the same. Harry if you'd like to speak to Sirius-"  
  
"Yeah, I would," Harry said.  
  
"-then you may. Good night, and merry Christmas." He went through a door and shut it behind him.  
  
Hermione and Ron, giving Harry reproachful looks, left through the door.  
  
"You must be very confused Harry," Sirius finally said. "And I can't tell you everything I'd like to."  
  
"Do all those people know you're innocent?" Harry asked eagerly. "I mean, they acted like it was normal and everything that you were there."  
  
"They've known for months, since we've been meeting. It's Cornelius Fudge I need to watch out for."  
  
Harry nodded slowly. "And was that woman Mrs. Figg?"  
  
Sirius smiled to himself. "It was Dumbledore's idea. When you went to live with the Dursley's he asked Mrs. Figg to live near you. He wanted a witch to keep an eye on you, make sure you were all right."  
  
"But I thought she was a Muggle. She had tons of cats," Harry said, furrowing his brow.  
  
"And she was! What happened to Arabella is very odd--was a Muggle until maybe 20 years ago. It was the height of Voldemort's power and Muggle killings were common. Anyway, she was doing her shopping when a few Death Eaters came--probably just killing for sport. She says they pointed their wands at her but--" "But what?" "She blew them away! Up into the sky they went and back down. Well, the Ministry got a hold of that bit of magic, came down to find a scared Mrs. Figg--I mean really, she'd just blown two full grown men away! It's very, very rare for a person to show magic that late in life, but with Mrs. Figg, well it happened--they were dire circumstances, you know. There were a few people, let me tell you, that wanted to wipe her memory. But Dumbledore saw her for what she was, trained her up a bit and now she's as much a witch as Professor McGonagoll. She was sent to Privet Drive to look after you all these years--prefers the Muggle lifestyle she says. And a bunch of cats, you said. I'll bet you anything they're Kneazles."  
  
"Yeah Hagrid taught us about them.and Hagrid, the giants?" Harry asked his head still spinning with new information.  
  
"Yes, Hagrid was sent over to Iceland to make amends with the giants. We think they're on our side now."  
  
"All right." Harry bit his lip. "And what they're protecting?"  
  
But Sirius was saying, "Time to go to bed, merry Christmas, Harry. I'll see you again soon."  
  
Ron and Hermione were both in the dormitory, already in their pajamas. They were very quiet.  
  
"I tried to tell her this was a boys dorm, but she doesn't care!" Ron moaned.  
  
"I had to talk to you, Harry. That was a lot we just found out."  
  
"Yeah. What do you reckon they're protecting?"  
  
Hermione and Ron looked from each other to Harry. They both looked as though someone had died.  
  
"Oh Harry, isn't it obvious?" Hermione finally said. "You Know Who's trying to get.you."  
  
The rest of vacation passed by tensely. Harry quickly forgot everything; homework, Snape, even Ginny. Hermione's words echoed in his mind "You Know Who's trying to get.you."  
  
It seemed improbable and yet it made sense. Voldemort had been trying to kill Harry since he was just a year old. And now that he had risen to power, Voldemort would want to kill Harry just as much.  
  
Harry was very glad when classes started again, and the common room was noisy. Of course Ron and Hermione wouldn't let Harry out of their sight and whenever Harry wanted to visit Hagrid, Hagrid was just as protective.  
  
"Don't yeh go wandering round the grounds," he said one Saturday afternoon.  
  
Harry looked evenly at Hagrid. "Why?  
  
"Well.well.yeh just shouldn't." Hagrid was red in the face. "Now how bout a biscuit?"  
  
Soon Harry had other things to worry about besides Voldemort. Snape had returned to Potions, which Harry felt was the more pressing issue.  
  
"Professor Fidel left a positive report. Though that's not saying much," Snape greeted the Slytherins and Gryffindors on his first day back. "I doubt one of you could produce a worthy Love Potion. However, we shall see just how much you learned for your O.W.L's. In the meantime I will be instructing you on Memory Potions."  
  
Harry gritted his teeth as he picked two Jobberknoll feathers.  
  
"Memory Potions," hissed Ron. "They're even harder than Love Potions."  
  
Harry noticed that Snape was already praising Malfoy, though his cauldron hadn't even begun to simmer.  
  
The teachers began adding to the workload, which was already very large. Professor Sinistra, the Astronomy teacher, had them studying the Andromeda Galaxy, and Professor Trelawney was making them learn more about oracle bones than they ever wanted to. McGonagoll, already a very difficult teacher, was trying to teach them beginning human transfiguration, but the only person who succeeded in turning her hand into a hook, was Hermione. Even Hagrid was making the class write extensive essays on the care of Crups.  
  
Harry had more to do than even Hermione, who was taking an extra class. As captain of the Gryffindor Quidditch team he had to arrange practices. They were up against Ravenclaw, one of the best teams, but still Alicia, Angelina, and Katie hadn't gotten the Parkin's Pincer down. Fred and George spent half their time trying to curse the Ravenclaw's broomsticks in the broom shed. Only Natalie ever wanted to work.  
  
"Would you stop it?" Harry shouted one evening when Fred and George had been tossing Bludgers toward the castle.  
  
"You're sounding like Oliver, Harry!" warned Fred, as he beat a Bludger toward the Astronomy tower.  
  
"Tomorrow we've got to overtake Ravenclaw if we want to get to the Quidditch final."  
  
"It's all right Harry, we're doing really well," Natalie said quietly. "And I've been working really hard on my Double Eight Loop."  
  
Harry had to smile, "It was already perfect."  
  
Natalie blushed and looked into her lap.  
  
  
  
The next morning Harry went out to the field feeling rather queasy in his stomach. Fred and George were too busy trying to sell FGAE's to notice how green Harry was.  
  
"It's all right," Natalie was next to Harry. "We'll do great."  
  
They walked out on the field, Fred and George still seemed keen on making money. "We're lowering the price to ten sickles!" Fred yelled out to the crowd.  
  
"Potter, Davies shake hands," Madam Hooch said, eyeing Fred and George suspiciously.  
  
Harry shook Roger Davies, the Ravenclaw captain's, hand. It struck him how very tall he was. Cho Chang was behind Roger, she smiled widely at Harry who gave her a tight lipped smile. It was strange how his stomach didn't do flip flops anymore.  
  
They took off from the ground, and Harry soared high above the rest of the field looking for the snitch, feeling the wind rush through his hair. He could hear Lee Jordan commentating-  
  
"Johnson in possession of the Quaffle-nice pass to Spinnet-speeding towards the goals-score for Gryffindor! YESSS!"  
  
A red mass of people broke into cheers. Alicia did a quick lap around the field grinning broadly.  
  
"Harry!"  
  
Harry looked down. It was Cho, riding on her broomstick.  
  
"What?" Harry squinted his eyes looking for the Snitch.  
  
"I-I just wanted to say that I'm really sorry about last year, and all that stuff." Cho flew up so that she was level with him.  
  
"Oh-oh yeah, all right then."  
  
"And I wanted to know if you'd like to meet me at Hogsmeade next visit- that's next week."  
  
"Um." Harry felt himself going red. He would have given anything for this last year, anything. So why did he feel so different now. "I-I can't."  
  
"Oh. Why?"  
  
"Well." Harry searched for an answer. "I have a lot of stuff to do. I really need to get ready for the O.W.L's."  
  
Now Cho was red. "Okay then. Well good luck Harry." And she swooped down near the Gryffindor goal post.  
  
Harry felt very odd. Why did he say no?  
  
"-McDonald blocks the Quaffle-great find of Potters. Small but quick." Harry continued looking for the Snitch.  
  
"-score is 30-0 Gryffindor."  
  
Harry smiled to himself. He felt oddly reassured.  
  
A Bludger rushed past him, grazing his ear, but shaking all romantic thoughts from him. Fred immediately flew up and hit it towards Cho.  
  
"Watch out," Fred said, and then flew off to block the other Quaffle from attacking Angelina.  
  
Then Harry saw it, a glimmer of gold right next to Katie Johnson. He sped downward, knocked into Katie, and caught it in his fist. Katie screamed, at first out of shock then happiness. She rushed to him and hugged him. Harry couldn't see much; Angelina, Katie, and Alicia were all hugging him now, Natalie was zooming around him saying, "We did it! We did it!" Out of the corner of his eye Harry could see Fred and George making rude gestures at the Ravenclaws.  
  
They fell to the ground, Harry feeling as if Christmas had come early.  
  
"Good job Cho," he said weakly as Cho passed him.  
  
"Yeah," she said. She looked very red and Harry began to feel as if he'd made a mistake.  
  
"We didn't even have to curse their broomsticks," George whispered in Harry's ear.  
  
"But we put about a dozen FGAE's in their locker room," Fred added, grinning wickedly.  
  
"You do realize that we'll be playing against Hufflepuff for the Cup," George said in the common room that night. He and Fred had immediately thrown a party, with help from Lee Jordan.  
  
"We're going to win, aren't we?" Angelina said. "Second time in a row. Ooh I'd love to win in my last year here."  
  
"Last game we played to Hufflepuff we lost," Katie reminded them.  
  
Harry bit his lip, remembering Cedric. "Yeah, " he said quietly.  
  
"But without Cedric they're awful!" George said tactlessly.  
  
Fred took a bit into a pumpkin pasty, "This is brilliant!" he said delightedly. "Wood would be proud."  
  
  
  
The next weekend, having told Cho he wouldn't be going to Hogsmeade, Harry had nothing to do but stay in Gryffindor tower.  
  
"We'll bring you loads back," Ron said as he and Hermione climbed out of the portrait hole.  
  
"Bye Harry!" Hermione called behind her shoulder.  
  
Harry shuddered involuntarily as he thought of Ron and Hermione sipping butterbeers together in the Three Broomsticks.  
  
"Harry?"  
  
Harry turned around to see Ginny.  
  
"I'm not going to Hogsmeade either. I hurt my hand in Care of Magical creatures the other day. Madam Pomfrey healed it but it's still sore."  
  
"Oh, really?" Harry said. Why was he going red? Why?  
  
"Um Harry," Ginny lowered her voice. She looked tentative. "There's something in my dorm I really need to show you."  
  
"Your dorm?" Harry felt as if someone had cut off the air to his lungs. Ginny nodded, looking terrible, and began to walk up the stairs, nodding at Harry to follow her.  
  
He followed Ginny up the winding staircase and to a room that said Fourth Years on the door. It was exactly like the boys dorms, except different colored bottles covered the bureaus and above one girls bed a Muggle picture of Colin Firth was smiling down at them.  
  
"I-I found this the other night. It was under a loose floorboard." Ginny handed Harry several rolls of parchment. Harry blew the dust off.  
  
"Cardinal and Curly Forever!" it said. There was an illustration underneath of two girls, one was lean with long red hair and lots of freckles. The other was plump and had curly hair. The picture was obviously magical as someone had enchanted it so that the two girls were giggling and kept pointing up at Harry and Ginny.  
  
"What-what is this?"  
  
"Look at the other one," Ginny said in a small voice.  
  
Harry put the Cardinal and Curly picture on one of the beds. The next one had a large heart that kept changing colors. Inside it, it said, "Prongs Loves Cardinal!" Then the "Prongs" bit was crossed out by another persons handwriting, and replaced with "Dustin Hoffman" and then that same person crossed Dustin Hoffman again and restored the name Prongs.  
  
"That-that was my Dad's nickname at school, Prongs. Who was Cardinal?"  
  
"Look at the last one, Harry," Ginny said.  
  
This sheet was not enchanted. All it had were some ink and quill scribblings saying "Lily Potter?" "James Evans?" "Lily Loves James."  
  
"Is this.my mums?" Harry asked. He kept looking at the papers.  
  
"I just found it under the floorboard," Ginny looked into Harry's eyes. "I figured this must've been her room when she was at Hogwarts. Her nickname must've been Cardinal, see. And Curly had to have been her friend. And your dad..James."  
  
Harry felt as if something was caught in his throat. He looked at the paper again, "Lily Potter."  
  
"I thought you would like it," Ginny's voice was barely audible.  
  
Harry blinked several times. "Thank you," he finally said.  
  
He sat up and for a moment he thought their lips grazed. But then Ginny was looking down, her ears were very red. Harry gathered the papers.  
  
"Well then-er-I better go."  
  
Ginny nodded as Harry began to leave.  
  
"Oh, Harry!"  
  
Harry turned round to see Ginny, who oddly had tears in her eyes.  
  
"I-I just mean. Never mind."  
  
And she just sat on her bed, leaving Harry to his very confused thoughts.  
  
  
  
When Ron and Hermione returned to Hogsmeade Harry didn't tell them about the papers Ginny had given him. He had put them under his mattress and was thinking very hard.  
  
This was what his mother must've been like at school; she was just a normal girl. She had nicknames-Cardinal must've been because of her hair, which Harry knew was red-she had friends, and crushes. and then Voldemort had killed her, just as he had killed so many others. All this pain and suffering just came from Voldemort. Harry tried hard to think of what his parents would have been like if they hadn't died, and he realized that he couldn't. He had never met his parents, he would never find out what they wanted for him, any of their hopes or dreams. They were just gone, and all that remained of their memory were bits of parchment.  
  
Harry felt an angry sob in his throat wiped two tears away.  
  
Harry shuddered and went to the window-the February chill felt good on his face. Harry leaned out and took a deep breath. It was just a bit of parchment, Harry told himself, just a little bit of parchment. And then he froze-a cardinal had just swept down and landed on the windowsill.  
  
Monday morning, at breakfast Harry was very quiet. Hermione and Ron were chatting rapidly about Hogsmeade but Harry somehow didn't hear them. Harry noticed that Ginny too, was quite reserved.  
  
"Harry are you all right?" Hermione asked.  
  
"What's up mate?" Ron said through a mouthful of hash browns.  
  
"Nothing, just tired."  
  
"Do you have a lot of work?" Hermione asked. "I know I do, Professor Vector wants us to write an essay on ancient Arithmancy."  
  
"No-no," Harry said. "I couldn't go to bed last night," Harry said, feeling that he wasn't really lying.  
  
"All right," Hermione looked at Harry suspiciously. "What've we got next?"  
  
Ron dived into his bag and emerged with a very tattered looking piece of parchment. "Defense Against the Dark Arts."  
  
"Great," Harry said miserably. "Really great."  
  
"Oh don't be talking!" Seamus Finnigan called from further down the table. "He doesn't try to curse you all the time! I had me dad write and complain to Dumbledore about him!"  
  
Harry smiled weakly at Seamus, who began pouring syrup over eggs.  
  
They entered the Defense Against the Dark Arts class, and to all the Gryffindors surprise, Gingle was sitting calmly at his desk in standard black robes. His hair was even brushed. When the bell rang he stood--it was like he was a different person. "Hello class," he said evenly. "Take out your quills, and open your books to page..." Ron and Harry exchanged astonished glances.  
  
"He's ill!" Dean Thomas said as they left the classroom. "He's got to be." "Too many people were complaining," Parvati said. "Dumbledore told him to stop acting like a nut or he'd be sacked." "Weird, though, isn't it?" Ron said. "Weird?" Seamus shouted. "It's fantastic! He won't curse me anymore--this is the best day of my life!"  
  
  
  
Fortunately, the immense workload kept the cardinal off of Harry's mind. Everyone from tiny Professor Flitwick to Professor Trelawney seemed to be obsessed with the O.W.L's. Snape was even worse.  
  
"Longbottom, really, you are the worst most pathetic student I've yet seen. You might as well snap your wand in half and live with the Muggles."  
  
"You can't say that!" Hermione exploded. "It isn't his fault that he isn't taught Potions properly" Her hair was mussed and her face was bright red.  
  
"Ten points from Gryffindor," Snape said silkily.  
  
"Ten points back to Gryffindor," Hermione muttered under her breath.  
  
She sat back down and misreading Ron's look of surprise, said, "Well I am a prefect, I can give myself points."  
  
"No-you just exploded at Snape like that. Last time I saw you that mad you quit Divination and slapped Malfoy. Think you could slap him again?"  
  
"I'm just having a hard day," Hermione said in a high voice. "I've got loads of work."  
  
Ron leaned in to talk to Hermione. He looked very serious. "Really Hermione, I think the best thing you could do would be to slap Malfoy again- -take out the stress you know. Come on just try." Hermione couldn't help but smile.  
  
  
  
The next morning Harry got a letter from Sirius. Hary read it quietly to Ron and Hermione.  
  
Harry-  
  
There's not much I can tell you but be careful. We still don't know why Voldemort is lying low but we've got an idea, and it may not be what it seems to you. Don't worry, security around the castle has increased, and you're with Dumbledore. Me and Buckbeak are fine.  
  
-Sirius  
  
"Well what's that supposed to mean?" Ron asked. "It may not be what it seems to you?"  
  
Hermione was reading the letter over, "I don't know," she said. "I guess he's just telling you to be careful."  
  
Harry shrugged, "As long as the dementors don't have him then I'm happy."  
  
  
  
The next trip to Hogsmeade was scheduled for the following Saturday. A blistering cold had settled around the castle, and many of the students were wearing their cloaks to classes. Fred and George could be seen selling, ""Dragon Snorts" which were fist sized balls of fire that were portable, "Great for playing tricks in class, nonburnable and nice and warm to get you through this cold weather!" Fred shouted out to the Gryffindor common room one night.  
  
That Saturday Harry and Ron wore their warmest cloaks, and bundled up in scarves that Mrs. Weasley had knit for both of them, and met Hermione in the common room.  
  
"Ooh, it's freezing out!" Hermione said when she met them. "I really fancy a butterbeer."  
  
They went to the Three Broomsticks, which was already very crowded, half the Hogwarts students being there. Harry, Ron, and Hermione, sat down at a table in the corner, where Ron immediately left to get drinks. Most of the Hogwarts teachers were there, Harry could see Professor McGonagoll and Professor Flitwick talking avidly, and Professor Gingle was (really, very normally) buying a gillywater.  
  
"Harry," Hermione said. "I just wanted to ask you-you're all right aren't you? I mean you've had a really hard year. First that stuff at Christmas and then the whole cardinal thing. You are all right, aren't you?"  
  
"Yeah," Harry said. "I'm fine-really Hermione.  
  
"All right then," Hermione said, but she didn't look convinced.  
  
"Couldn't give me a hand with these, could you?" Ron said from behind a mound of butterbeers.  
  
"Oh Ron, here I'll get that," Hermione took two frothing mugs of butterbeer and handed one to Harry.  
  
"Would you move?" came a bored voice. "Your blocking my way."  
  
Both Ron and Harry whipped around. It was Malfoy.  
  
"I mean really, your feet, they're enormous, they're taking up the entire aisle."  
  
"Oh you-" Ron said gritting his teeth.  
  
"Malfoy how are you?" Hermione said cheerily. "And Professor Fidel, you were awfully sorry to see her leave. Have you been keeping in touch?"  
  
Malfoy glared. He turned back to Ron, "Oh I'm so terribly sorry, you were flirting with the Mudblood over here, well I'll just let you get on with your business-"  
  
"You shut your mouth," hissed Ron. Harry was holding him back.  
  
"All right don't fight me, I mean what could I expect from you, Weasley? Well I'll be on my way now, don't want to be spotted talking to a bunch of Mudbloods and Muggle lovers." Malfoy smirked and walked away where he met his two cronies, Crabbe and Goyle, who began to whisper darkly.  
  
"Oh I'm gonna kill him some day," Ron said as he watched Malfoy leave. "Flirting with Hermione, hmmph! As if!"  
  
"Don't let him bother you," Hermione said. "He isn't worth your time."  
  
Harry looked around his shoulder. Cho had obviously forgotten about him, as she was back with Roger Davies, laughing, with one arm around his waist.  
  
He could see Ginny and her friends at a table-and at the table next to them was Dean Thomas, Seamus Finnigan, and Neville Longbottom. Suddenly Ginny looked up, and caught Harry's eye. Blushing furiously Harry turned his head the other way, and looked out the window where..there was a cardinal.  
  
"Hermione, Ron!' he said in a low voice. "Look there-" he pointed to the cardinal.  
  
Hermione and Ron whipped around. "Oh!" said Hermione quietly.  
  
"But, you know, it could just be a cardinal," Ron said awkwardly.  
  
"I think it's my mum," Harry said in a very, very quiet voice.  
  
"But Harry-it can't be. I mean-"  
  
"I know, I know she's dead. But everyone thought Wormtail was dead and- never mind."  
  
The cardinal had flown away.  
  
The Easter holidays were not exactly fun. The teachers had piled work on them in preparation for the O.W.L's.  
  
"They're months away!" complained Ron, but Harry didn't mind the work. It kept his mind off other things, like the cardinal.  
  
Even Fred and George who were about to take their N.E.W.T's the highest qualification Hogwarts offered, were found working once or twice in the common room, though cynics thought they were just thinking up new inventions.  
  
So slowly the winter eased into spring, and Harry began seeing more and more of the cardinal although, as Hermione logically said, "Well now the birds are coming back up north."  
  
One Saturday when Ron proclaimed the workload, "Just too much," Harry suggested going down to Hagrid's.  
  
"Wanna come Hermione?"  
  
"Ooh I don't know," Hermione said. "I've got loads to do."  
  
"Come on Hermione," Ron wheedled. "We haven't been to Hagrid's in ages."  
  
"Oh all right," Hermione sighed. "But I really hope he won't ask us to help him with the giants."  
  
Night was falling rapidly as they approached Hagrid's hut. Someone was obviously home this time-the chimney was billowing smoke, and candles were flickering in the windows. As they came nearer they heard something else- music.  
  
"What is that?" Harry asked. It sounded like classical music played on a musical saw.  
  
Hermione covered her ears.  
  
"Oh god!" Ron said, "I think it's Odealian. He's this awful dead wizard composer. Percy listens to it all time so that people think he's twenty years older than he is. Even my dad can't stand it."  
  
"But why is Hagrid listening to that?" Hermione asked as she approached the window.  
  
"Oh," she said quietly. "Oh it's so sweet, come here and look."  
  
Tentatively Ron and Harry came up. Inside the hut was Hagrid, wearing his hideous hairy brown suit was sitting at his table sharing a candlelit dinner with.what looked like, Madam Maxime.  
  
"Oh, wouldn't it be wonderful if they got married?" Hermione said. Hagrid was pouring Madam Maxime a glass of nettle wine.  
  
Ron and Harry exchanged looks, "Come on Hermione, let's leave them alone." Ron said.  
  
"All right, I really ought to get to work on our Magical History essay anyway."  
  
"But that's not due till next week!" Ron called out indignantly. "Nutters," Harry heard him say under his breath. "Positively nutters."  
  
The work they were getting now was immense. Every single teacher was giving them hours worth of homework, in preparation for the O.W.L's. Ron, Harry, and Hermione were working in the Gryffindor common room one night when Parvati Patil came bursting in through the portrait hole.  
  
"They're going to have a dance!" she cried out. "In June, just like the Yule Ball." She turned to her friend, Lavender, "What do you think I should wear?"  
  
"Great a dance. Guess they think it'll relieve the nerves." Ron said grumpily. "Relieve our nerves! Ha!"  
  
"You're just like that because you had a horrible time at the Yule Ball," Hermione said. "I bet this time you'll have a wonderful time."  
  
"Yeah. Now I've got to do all this homework and try to find a date. Great, really it's wonderful."  
  
"What if I asked you to the dance?" Hermione said in a small voice. Harry pretended to be very interested on his oracle bones chart.  
  
"Um-" Ron was bright red. "Well, all right."  
  
And they all went back to their homework, Ron smiling slightly.  
  
Harry really didn't care about the dance in June-after all, he did feel there were more pressing issues, such as passing Potions.  
  
"Potter I have no idea how you even made it to your fifth year," Snape said silkily in Potions one day.  
  
"This potion is green. It was supposed to be purple, don't you understand that? Detention next Tuesday for sheer stupidity!"  
  
Harry glared at Snape who turned away to admire Malfoy's very purple potion.  
  
Harry stormed out of class as soon as the bell rang; Ron and Hermione had to walk fast to keep up with him.  
  
"It's all right, you'll find a date to the dance,." Ron said.  
  
"That isn't what I'm mad about," Harry said through gritted teeth. "Snape just gave me a detention because of that stupid potion."  
  
"Oh, Harry, if you need help-"  
  
"I don't need help," Harry said. "I just want to rest." And he went off to lunch.  
  
That night in the common room Harry was trying to turn his hair blue, practicing a Hair Spell that McGonagoll hinted that they'd need to know for the O.W.L's. Ron and Hermione were talking quietly at the other side of the table.  
  
"Harry,' said a small voice. Harry jumped, sending red sparks through the common room. "Sorry!" he called out. He looked behind him, to see the keeper of the voice. It was Ginny.  
  
"I was just thinking, about the dance." Harry felt his stomach turn about.  
  
"Do you want to go with me?" they both said in the same breath. Ginny laughed.  
  
"Um-well then," Harry said.  
  
"See you at the dance!" Ginny turned and left, her face bright red.  
  
"You're going with Ginny?" Ron asked. "My sister?"  
  
"So?' Harry said gruffly, looking down.  
  
"Nothing, I just never thought you liked her," Ron said.  
  
Harry was in too much of a good mood to snip at Ron, "Well I.do, a little," he said quietly. "I mean, she's very nice."  
  
Hermione was glowing at Harry, "Good job, now you two will have fun at the dance instead of skulking off.'  
  
Harry smiled weakly, but feeling rather happy, he went upstairs and to bed.  
  
  
  
"Ow!" Harry's scar was burning. He sat up in bed, rubbing his scar. He thought of waking Ron but decided against it. Last time this had happened Voldemort had been right next to him. Harry whipped around, half expecting Voldemort to be standing over his bed. He looked at Ron sleeping, wondering for half a second if he should get him up. Harry shook his head. He should tell Dumbledore. He should have the first time his scar hurt him. He was only a 15 year old wizard with an ineptitude for potions; Dumbledore was the most powerful wizard ever. Harry got up, wrapping a bathrobe around him and put his slippers on. He had no time to get his Invisibility Cloak, he'd just have to risk hetting caught. Because he had to tell Dumbledore; what if Voldemort came now? Massaging his scar, Harry slipped downstairs and out the portrait hole, where he walked quickly towards Dumbledore's office. The castle was dark and shadowy at night, and Harry crossed his fingers hoping he wouldn't run into Filch or Peeves as he reached the first floor, straining his mind to remember where Dumbledore's office was.  
  
"BOOM!"  
  
There was an enormous explosion in the Entrance Hall. Harry ran to their and suddenly stopped. Dumbledore was standing on the stairs, his wand raised. His eyes were glowing with a fiery anger and his hat was frayed--it appeared someone had tried to curse him.  
  
Harry looked down to see who Dumbledore was looking at-Harry gulped. It was Professor Gingle, holding Fawkes, Dumbledore's phoenix, under one arm. "Put the bird down!" Dumbledore said clearly.  
  
"My Master needs him-" Professor Gingle said laughing maniacally.  
  
Dumbledore was running down the stairs, agile for an old man. "Put the bird down!" he repeated, his voice now louder.  
  
Professor Gingle caught sight of Harry. For a moment Harry considered running but he couldn't. His legs seemed frozen to the ground.  
  
Suddenly Gingle lunged at Harry, grabbing him by his wrists and pointing his wand at him. He threw Fawkes to the ground.  
  
"Have your bird, but the boy dies!" Gingle hissed. "Suffuco!" Harry felt fear rushing through him; he couldn't breathe. It felt as though energy was being sucked out of him, his knees were growing weak. He felt so light headed.  
  
And then Harry saw it, at the top of the ceiling-the cardinal. His mother would be with him when he died...  
  
Dumbledore was saying something, but Harry couldn't hear, there was a dull drumming noise in his ears. Fawkes had flown to the top of the stairs and was singing a beautiful and mournful song.  
  
Harry felt something well up inside him, he didn't know what. The phoenix's song was coursing through every vein in his body, he felt strong and brave.  
  
The cardinal up in the rafters was twitching-it's beak kept biting it's wing-he couldn't stand the phoenix song. And Harry noticed, it was watching Gingle.  
  
And then Harry had a sudden revelation. This bird wasn't his mother, it never was..  
  
"Dumbledore! The cardinal in the rafters!" Harry said, through Gingle's arms. There was a loud bang and Harry felt something wet on his arm-Gingle had used a Shearing Charm on his arm; blood was sinking through his robes. Pain coursing through him, Harry fell to the ground, gasping for air.  
  
Dumbledores eyes got wide and he looked up at the cardinal, victory flashing on his face. "Stupefy!" he called, his blue eyes angry and powerful. The cardinal fell to the ground-and so did Gingle.  
  
Fawkes gave a low warble and flew to Harry, laying his beautiful head on Harry's arm. He was crying. Where Harry's wound was, a pearly patch of tears replaced it. Harry stroked Fawkes's head.  
  
Dumbledore looked furious, but not at Harry. "Are you hurt?"  
  
"No-look," Harry showed Dumbledore the patch of tears. "I just-I don't understand."  
  
"I don't expect you to,' Dumbledore said. He picked up the tiny cardinal and muttered something under his breath. The bird rose into the air, and Fawkes let out an angry warble. But the cardinal was changing-it's wings became long arms, his feet replaced claws. He changed into a long, lean man of around forty.  
  
"Rexby," Dumbledore said again. "Harry, go to the hospital wing."  
  
"But..?"  
  
"I'll explain everything later."  
  
And Harry, still feeling light-headed, went to the hospital wing, where he collapsed, all of his energy gone.  
  
Harry woke feeling sick to his stomach-his scar hurt! He had to tell Dumbledore! Then he remembered what had happened.Fawkes, the cardinal, Professor Gingle. He rolled over, thinking to himself.what had happened?  
  
"Hello Harry," Dumbledore was sitting next to him. Harry felt a million questions exploding in his head at once.  
  
"Professor Dumbledore," Harry said breathlessly. "I-I don't understand."  
  
"You've only been in the hospital wing the night. Everything's all right-I can explain everything that happened now."  
  
Harry nodded.  
  
"Since the beginning we knew that Voldemort would be taking something from the school. Professor Snape went undercover with the Death Eaters-that's why he was absent. He reported back that Voldemort was going to steal Fawkes."  
  
"Fawkes? But I thought-"  
  
"I forgot you were present at that meeting on Christmas. No, Voldemort wasn't trying to kidnap you. It was Fawkes that he wanted."  
  
Harry was baffled. "But why?"  
  
Dumbledore took in a deep breath, "It is difficult to explain. Phoenixes' possess very magical qualities of their own. They can heal wounds,carry large loads, but most importantly their song gives courage to the pure of heart. It is our side's greatest weapon, Fawkes; he can instill fear in the Death Eaters and give ourselves the greatest of bravery. I think that was why Voldemort wanted him; to kill him and take away one of our most powerful weapons."  
  
Harry felt breathless. That was why Professor Gingle was carrying Fawkes....  
  
"Voldemort had no one that he could plant inside the castle to take Fawkes. Instead he put Professor Gingle under the Imperius Curse."  
  
"Voldemort did?"  
  
"No," Dumbledore said slowly. "One of Dumbledore's supporters. His name was Didibus Rexby."  
  
"He's dead!" Harry said.  
  
"Oh no, not at all. That's only what Voldemort wanted you to think. He set the Dark Mark up over Rexby's house and had Rexby hide under cover. After all, once of his followers faked his death once, another one could do it."  
  
"What?"  
  
"Rexby's very much alive. He was the one who set the Dark Mark off at Halloween, probably lurking around the castle, bored until he could make his move, his idea of...fun. Yes, he's alive but he'll be going to Azkaban soon if I'm not much mistaken."  
  
"But how could he.I mean, control Professor Gingle?"  
  
"Rexby was an unregistered Animagus. He could change into a cardinal at will. Unless I'm very wrong, I believe that Rexby has been hovering around the castle, giving Gingle orders, ever since January. You saw him up in the rafters last night."  
  
"I-I thought it was my mum," Harry said in a small voice.  
  
"Yes," Dumbledore closed his eyes and took off his glasses. "Lily's nickname at school was Cardinal. But she's dead Harry, you cannot dwell in the past. You're mother is very much alive in you. See, you have her eyes."  
  
Harry blinked away a few tears while Dumbledore cleaned his glasses with his sleeve.  
  
"Phoenixes are born from their ashes," Dumbledore finally said. "They reflect life. For you see, in life, good comes from all evil. From the ashes, a new, greater thing shall rise; it is a natural order. It's been proven Harry-the night your parents died, the Dark Lord fell. This is something more magic than anything you will learn here, it is something the greatest wizards cannot grasp, it is the order of the phoenix."  
  
Harry closed his eyes and thought for a moment. "Is Gingle.is he all right?" Harry finally said.  
  
"Professor Gingle is fine, though somewhat shaken. I doubt after this incident he will come back and teach. "  
  
"Right." Harry closed his eyes once again.  
  
"I'm sure later this afternoon Madam Pomfrey will allow you out of bed, I'll be needing to address the students sometime tomorrow."  
  
Harry massaged his still dully throbbing scar. That's why it didn't hurt in July-Rexby hadn't died at all. And Cardinal. he remembered what Dumbledore had said, "Your mother is very much alive in you. See, you have her eyes."  
  
When Madam Pomfrey allowed Harry to leave the hospital wing (though to much protestation) Harry immediately went to see Ron and Hermione and told them what happened. "Mad, though, isn't it?" Ron said. "Why Fawkes?" Harry thought a moment. "Phoenixes are powerful I guess. Dumbledore explained and I think I sort of understand. Fawkes is a weapon for us." "But You Know Who--he can still come back?" "Yeah I suppose so. But they've got people against him. They're trying to stop him. Look at Hagrid and the giants--and the meeting at Christmas." Ron looked down. Hermione finally said in a hushed voice"And the cardinal wasn't your mum then." "No," Harry said, looking out the window and was silent for a very long time. "It wasn't."  
  
Dumbledore spoke to the students the next day at supper. He only told them that there was an attempted attack that Voldemort was behind. Several students, Harry could tell, were stirring up their own rumours. "Voldemort's hiding in the loos," Hannah Abbott whispered. "Voldemort was killed last night and they don't want to tell us!" Colin Creevey said to his brother. "Dumbledore IS Voldemort!" a Hufflepuff first year said. But Harry, Ron and Hermione knew the truth and tried to look as puzzled as everyone else even when Professor Gingle announced his resignation. "YES!" Seamus Finnigan shouted, taking no trouble to disguise his happiness.  
  
Because of the attack the final exams--including the O.W.L's--were cancelled ("I can't believe it!" Hermione moaned) but the rest of the students were thoroughly pleased. The final ball was cancelled and Harry couldn't help but feel a pang of disappointment, as he thought of Ginny's red hair. Soon it was the end of term, trunks were packed, and the Hogwarts Express had pulled up to Hogsmeade station. On the train on the way home Harry, Ron and Hermione sat eating Chocolate Frogs, playing Exploding Snap and talking. Halfway through the voyage Harry got a letter from Sirius.  
  
Harry- Dumbledore wrote to me to tell me about what happened between you and Didibus Rexby. All I can say is that James would have been proud of you; you've acted braver than many full grown wizards. Keep your eyes out for me this summer. You may see a lovable stray walking down Privet Drive. -Sirius  
  
Finally the train pulled into Kings Cross. Harry said goodbye to Ron and Hermione and made his way towards the barrier. He caught Ginny's eye. "Bye Ginny." Ginny smiled. "Bye." Voldemort was still in power, Harry thought, but now they had the upper hand. And smiling slightly he made his way into the muggle world. 


End file.
